Chance
by JapFan04
Summary: Chance slowly finds out that maybe his birth wasn't mere 'chance' afterall and his life has been sworn to death by the knife, being a Fitch. But the Punisher is the one who wields it. Inspired by 'Fill me with your poison' by AlbinoF0x that is also PHXOC. Contains smut, and gore. Yaoi. LAST CHAPTER IS UP!
1. Chance for everything

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole wiki if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

ENOUGH! Now, we begin~...

* * *

There is a chance for everything. Good and bad. All have equal probability for happening. Even the fulfillment of a parent's lies. A Child's fears. A poetic fantasy.

Those in the Order lied to their offspring. A terrible, gruesome lie. A lie to cover up for their guilt; the guilt for constant power and success at the cost of an innocent. A life that knows no regret, no loss, no grief. The sacrifice in itself was a sin. And the lie, a sin to dress the sin. Sin over sin. For which punishment awaited those who slaughtered their children in the depths of hell.

But a lie was just a lie, right? And hell would forever be where it belonged: in a realm where one goes after one dies, right?

There is that chance, however. And chance, was going to begin the realization of an ancient, much-abused lie.

* * *

The young boy scampered back across their family backyard, a wide, pleasant space, which previously would be occupied by his three friends: Steven, Sally and Billy. But today it was empty. And he was lonely.

You see three days ago, Steven stopped coming to his backyard to play, a week before that, Sally was gone, and a month before that Billy had gone missing.

So little Chance Fitch, named after the fact that his mother had run away from Silent Hill in order to have a second chance at life away from the order-only to be found again by her very angry husband however-re-entered his house via the back door, spotting his mother, chopping away at a carrot in the kitchen. Interrupting her preparations for dinner, Chance piped up, tugging at her apron.

_"Where is Steven, mommy? He can't play and I'm sad." _Chance said.

And in concordance to the old rule, his mother ceased her chopping. And she smiled, a sad, worn-out, tired smile. The smile of a failure. She replied, a reply, that ironically-perfectly coincided with their long-used poetic farce.

_"You mustn't ask, my darling-Steven has been bad." _She replied, picking up her knife and continuing to chop away at the vegetable.

The phrase didn't bother her so much that moment. But her son's next question, made her grow more concerned. And as she thought about it, the coincidence was too great.

_"Billy too, and Sally?" _Chance asked, recalling the disappearances of , tugging on her apron again._ "Did…Did they do something wrong?"_

This time, the knife stopped completely for much longer, the woman's hand trembling with fear. Confusion. But like a well-rehearsed line, she continued the old cursed hymn of all lying parents. A hymn she had never before needed to use on her son up until now. Only the timing-the moment, was far, far too perfect.

There was a chance for everything.

Her lips parted, singing the continuation of the dreadful song in a desperate, slightly strained whisper.

_"I'm afraid it's true, child-all your friends are gone." _She said, making up an equally gruesome tune to help her lie along.

* * *

That had been years ago. After much conflict between her and her husband, Mr. Fitch had finally done the unthinkable-he had ended his wife's life. A kitchen knife to the heart-only fitting, for the family that had sworn their child to mutilation via blade.

Mr. Hayden Fitch, estranged brother of Martin Fitch, was then cast out of the town for fear that he would be punished by the Order-an effort on Martin's part to secretly save his brother, despite the hostile front it took to distort his true intentions.

Chance grew up in a small settlement outside of Centralia, on the outskirts of Pennsylvania. He in turn, hated his father, knowing it was very well his fault his mother disappeared.

And that was how Chance learned. There were no such things as monsters, who stole away people you loved and cared about. It was just other people. Other people who were selfish; who committed brutal acts of violence-other people made monster, and sometimes; were the monsters.

His father was a monster. A monster he didn't' respect, and therefore would never obey. Chance didn't obey anyone. He did what he wanted. At age 15 he was already quite the heavy smoker, and he even went out drinking with the seniors on a a regular basis.

His father had grown senile and paranoid-looking around corners every now and then, making panting, panicky noises when something in the house fell or a door opened. Sometimes, even sounds of the television frightened him. After awhile, he stopped watching TV altogether.

One day, the Order would find them-Hayden thought hysterically. One day he would be punished for what he did. For breaking the oath by stealing his son away, for killing his wife, for endangering the whole prosperity of Shepherds Glen.

By age eighteen, Hayden had died-a car accident resulting from the sudden onslaught of hysteria, when he thought he mistook a pedestrian to be Margaret Holloway and tried to run the poor woman over, for fear of being the next to disappear.

Chance was alone now. Not that he was dependent of his father at all-he had his own job at a bar, which he obtained through some connections with some highschool seniors while he was still in middle-school, and he even rented out his own apartment in time, just to stay away from his disgrace of a father.

Unfortunately, knowing he was completely alone in the world, was something he didn't know how to cope with. As Chance sat on his bed in his small apartment, he shut his eyes with a sigh, putting out the cig he had been puffing, but halfway through just neglected.

He flopped backwards, down onto his bed, staring at the ceiling in a blank daze. The shutting of his eyes only led to a black version of the same blank stare, only this time, he could let his thoughts wander. He thought about a lot of things: about his rent deadline, about his old buddies, the old bike gang he had been 'adopted' into for a couple of years all because one of the older boys took a liking to his guts.

He smirked at the memory, grabbing a metal broom in an attempt to fend off some of the bikers when they decided to rob a store he frequented and consequently befriended the old lady who ran it. Of course, he had been held down and taunted, but the way he had managed to severely wound two did not go unnoticed. Kurtis. That's right. Kurtis was like an older brother to him at that time…he picked him up from school and they went around, stealing, beating up people who owed anyone from the group money. Lots of things.

Then he thought about school, about how he always passed his grades just enough to get to the next year; about how his dad yelled overtime his report card came home. How he would yell about how his mother wouldn't be proud of him if she knew…

Chance sat up at that thought. That bastard of a man killed his mother. He had no right to talk about her at all! The young man threw the pillow that he had been resting his head upon against the wall, against which it collided with a loud but lush sound, making the same noise as it fell to the floor.

"…mom…" he whispered, his tone sad in an almost-sob as he turned, sitting on the side of his bed, resting his head on his hands.

He hadn't thought about his old home in a long, long time. Through the years, a lot of things happened…and he just never did. But he remembered; his mind now wandering through all the people he had lost-his disowned father included. His mother hadn't been the first one either…yes…Billy…

…Billy was the first. And then Sally was gone…not long after that…and finally, Steven and his own mother.

However, unlike his mother, he never did know how Billy, Sally and Steven had died. Now, of course, he didn't know whether or not they were dead…but experience with his father showed-after all these years too, would they really still be alive.

…there was a chance for everything.

In his thoughts, he recounted what his mother had said before. Before all those fights broke out and the…incident resulting in her untimely demise.

He knew the words so well, reciting them in his head. "_"Where is Steven, mommy? He can't play and I'm sad."…"You mustn't ask, my darling-Steven has been bad."…"Billy too, and Sally? Did they do something wrong?"…"I'm afraid it's true child-all your friends are gone"…"_

Chance however didn't know-that wasn't the end of the poem. As far as he was concerned however, just like his father was responsible for his mother's depart from his life; he was assured that his friend's parents were the ones responsible for their disappearances.

If only he knew how close he was to the truth.

* * *

A/N: Sorry to cut it there. Next time, we'll have Chance discovering the rest of the poem and onwards from there. Don't worry, relatively, the chapters are short, this one just seems a bit long thanks to the lengthy intro at the top. This entry will be in all my chapters posts, just so you remember just what info I'm basing this off of.

And in the next chapter, we'll finally have an appearance of our favorite monster, Pyramid Head! So stay in touch~!


	2. The Noose and the Pyramid

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

And now, to the fic!

* * *

In some ways, Chance wondered whether what his mother said was real or not. Could the children have been punished because what they did was bad? Like in the poem…what was 'bad'?

Certainly, his mother had broken the rules. Only now that he was older, he understood that she had run away in order to try and protect him. He was a Fitch-and therefore he might have been next in line to 'disappear' seeing as all his friends did.

That night, when Chance closed his eyes and fell into that realm where certain insanities lurked and others could not reach-he heard it. His mother's voice. Singing. And oh, how beautiful it was.

She sang to him sitting on the side of his bed, caressing his cheek and whispering words of comfort.

"Don't worry baby…" she said, kissing his forehead. "Mommy's here…mommy loved you. Mommy will make sure that they never do it again. I wont let them…I wont let them touch you…"

Yes. Yes, they deserved punishment. Everyone. Everyone who took away those he loved. Everyone needed to be punished.

His mother continued to sing. And slowly, at the foot of his bed, he could see a group of shadows, slowly crawling across the walls of his room, from all kinds of nooks and crammies. Slowly, but surely, they manifested together to form one single, great shadow. The shadow grew darker, and thicker, growing out of the floor to form a figure.

And all the while his mother smiled. And she sang. And sang.

And the shadow took on a form, a sort of…pointed hat? No…a helmet…it was huge…! Whatever it was, it was big and…looked…much like a man did. A very strong, large man. Frgitheningly so. Chance was still growing, but for his age he stood a proud six feet and two inches, Kurtis was bigger standing three inches taller, but his older brother, John, their leader was even bigger. Standing at about eight feet tall, there was little other reason he was someone to be noted upon sight..but this…man…? Thing…? Whatever it was…was much bigger. Maybe it was the helmet?

But as the form finally gave way to color and tone, texture and life…Chance knew, it didn't matter whether the helmet was there or not, he was definitely inhumanly large.

At this point, this mother stopped singing and sighed, looking back at the thing at the foot of her son's bed…and she smiled at it.

* * *

Morning came with a feeling of ease. And contrary to the fact that last night's dream was a bit eerie when he thought about it, he felt well-rested and fresh.

It was odd, since his father had died only just a week ago…but…he did deserve it…Chance thought bitterly. The bitter feeling didn't last long though, as he glanced at the clock and realized he was late for school. About three hours late. It was his senior year, and exams were close, so there was no official grading at this time. In fact, he could skip school if he wanted to.

Chance grinned-that's exactly what he would do.

He shot up out of bed, venturing to the tiny bathroom the apartment had and stripping along the way, letting his clothes fall to the floor. He would pick them up when he felt like it. Maybe.

As Chance stepped into the shower, he felt an odd chill run up his spine, and quickly turned around-why? It felt like someone was watching him. But as his eyes met the open doorway to the bedroom, he saw there was nobody there. He sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking the feeling off. Maybe it was because of the weird dream that night. He thought about the tall, helmeted figure and chuckled a little-a pyramid. That's what the triangle thing had been. A pyramid. One made of heavy steel, rusted and worn-looking.

As soon as he was dressed, Chance slipped out the door, locking it and stuffing the keys into his pocket. He then headed for the usual spot-the alleyway a few blocks away from school, between where he lived and the campus.

He kicked the garbage out of his way, stepping over a few turned over trashcans before spotting the false wall-which was actually his idea. He had propped up a few loose boards of both aluminum and wood, to make it look like someone had dumped them at the side of the dumpster, only behind it was a hole in the wall, leading to a staircase that went down underground. Their biker hideout.

Chance moved the board slightly before slipping into the crack, heading down the flight of stairs and through the door.

"Hey, Kurt!" He yelled into the echoey passage.

Kurtis looked up from his latest porn magazine, a stolen copy of the latest issue of Barely Legal, featuring young and pregnant teenage girls in this issue who still look ready to let someone in their panties.

"Hey, kid." Kurtis grinned, closing the magazine and yanking his pants closed, buttoning them up. "Johnny's up and about, picking up some real, chicks."

Kurtis wasn't alone-but a brother could do his business as long as he shared his porn, several other magazines, issues of 30Something, 18Eighteen, Modern Man, and even Asian Babes were scattered and being tossed around between the men sitting on the floor, on boxes, or whatever rotting chairs were still usable. Smoke from cigarettes was heavy in the air, and so was the smell of crack and mary jane.

"Got tired of jacking off to paper?" Chance joked, stepping over and a round a few burly men to get to Kurtis.

"Yeah…and I might just find you, a girlfriend." Kurtis said, getting up and fishing out a steel case of cigars from beneath the couch pillows.

The good ones were always kept for those who earned it. Krutis smirked as he pulled one out, lighted it and took a puff.

"Like I'd be interested." Chance snorted. "Women are too much trouble."

"Yeah…?" Kurtis said, relishing in the fumes that invades his mouth via his own airway. "I guess. But a good rut every once in awhile is healthy for a man."

"I'm eighteen!" Chance said, laughing a little.

"And, a mighty fine young man you are." Kurtis grinned, patting the smaller male on the head. "Kid, with looks like yours, I'd be picking up girls and having them beg to pay ME for a round or two."

Chance looked away, smiling, a little embarrassed flush going to his cheeks. "Yeah, right."

Ever since what happened to his mother-Chance didn't really want to get to know a girl. It seemed anyone vulnerable enough that was associated with him would meet a bad end one way or another. He could never let anyone get that close.

"Now look at you." Kurtis chuckled, pinching the boy's nose. "All flushy and blushy-has the kid I picked up for bashing my nose in twice gone soft?"

Chance flinched and caught Kurtis' hand, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! No fucking way!"

Kurtis grinned at the fact he could feel the bones in his wrist shifting under the boy's grip.

Chance may have been smaller than him, but he wasn't a weakling. Kurtis let go of the younger one's nose as did Chance with his wrist. Twisting it to relieve it of the feeling, brought a few cracking noises to his ears. For a second, both Chance and Kurtis froze in surprise, before bursting out into a fit.

"Hahahaha! Nope, nope there yet!" Kurtis roared in laughter. "It'll take a few years for you to start rusting up!"

"You better believe it!" Chance smirked back, chuckling a little.

"Aaaah, kid…" Kurtis sighed, recovering from his bout and smiling, nodding his head in approval. "You may be a pretty-little-boy, but you've got the grip of a real man."

"Little-" Chance stuttered. "Hey, you just said I was a young man! Make up your damn mind will ya?"

Kurtis only gave him one more chuckle, patting his shoulder. "Well, we were planning to drive down to Indiana to set up a new hideout."

"The cops getting annoying again?" Chance asked, worried.

"Yeah…the fuzz is getting really rowdy about our current activities. On account of John getting a little too bored lately." Kurtis sighed.

"We goin' now?" Chance asked.

"Well, look at you, eager already." Kurtis grinned. "Yeah…we're just waiting for-"

As soon as he said that, the sound of heavy guitar and booming drums sounded from his right pocket. Kurtis stopped mid-sentence and reached into his pocket, pulling it out and flipping it open.

"Hey, yeah? Uh-huh…height, brother." he closed the phone. "Saddle up, boys!"

At the commend, those who were flipping through their dirty books looked up, shifting and getting to their feet.

"We're heading' to Indiana!" he announced. "Whooo!"

A resounding of hoots and whoops echoed through the room, the men gathering their gear and their beer bottles, breaking them across the room, on the floor, on the couch and as they went. Something they always did when they moved on. Once the lot of them was out of the hideout and accounted for, Kurtis turned to Chance, handing him a lighter, a easily combustible one.

"Care to do the honors kid? It was your place." Kurtis asked.

Chance grinned-this was the first time anyone other than John and Kurtis lit up a hideout. "Yeah…"

As the lighter went up and down the steps, so did the entire underground of the building.

The trip down south required them to pass through the main body of Pennsylvania and as they passed through Centralia…

Chance flinched as he felt a small wave of nausea hit him, clinging onto Kurtis back as they rode down the turnpike. He breathed deep, a ringing suddenly sounding in his ears. His mother's voice formed from the ringing noise, singing the continuation of her song from the night before.

_"Beware of he who took them-he goes by many names._

_The Bogeyman, the Shadowed One, but all are he, the same._

_For every sin a child has, must be a punishment to bear._

_Your friends are now beyond our reach; trapped deep within his lair_

_And if they take what is not theirs, there can be no doubt._

_He'll stretch their skin until it snaps, and all the blood drains out._

_Remember to always behave, for sins he won't abide._

_He wields a rusty, jagged blade, to cut out your insides…."_

"Chance…Chance…"

Chance flinched as the nausea subsided, but left him exhausted and dizzy. "Mhhm…?"

"Chance…!"

Chance gaped, waking with a jolt, sleepy unusually colored silvery-grey eyes blinking tiredly as he brushed away his blonde hair.

"Chance?" Sally blinked, "Hey sleepy head. You sure fell asleep fast…"

Wait…Sally…?

She smiled, her green eyes contrasting against her pretty short red hair. Chance blinked, sitting up, hands feeling the soft texture of grass. "Wha…"

She was older-as old as she would be if she hadn't gone missing all those years. Chance stared, but there was no doubt she was Sally. Chance however had no idea that this was only the second step to the realization of his nightmare.

The poem had already been set in motion, by Chance himself, many, many years ago. Only now that he was of age, it was time for him to face the true horror of his existence.

"Sally…where…" chance began to ask.

Sally smiled. "Where? What do you mean, Chancey-boy? We're right here. Home."

Chance stood up slowly, caution never leaving his senses-when you were running around with a group of nasty bikers that had a lot of enemies, you had to keep your head on.

The wind was not too warm and not too cold, and it was a pleasant feeling when the grass swayed and waved up at him as if to welcome him. Welcome him where exactly, though?

"We're near the lake." Sally said.

Chance blinked and nodded, eyes wandering and indeed, meeting the sight of a lake, beneath the hill they were currently situated on. As his eyes travelled further, he could see a sign near the lake reading: "Toluca Lake" and it was then, he understood. This was Silent Hill. And he was home.

"Come on." Sally said, smiling wide. "It's getting late, and my mom will want me home."

"Ah-…yeah…" Chance said, feeling his head go light and his chest fill with an odd feeling.

It was an uplifting notion-hope, maybe? Surely, he was glad to see Sally…but why here..? Why now?

"Sally…I…" Chance began, only to be cut off when Sally tugged his wrist, pulling him down the hill. "Come on, I'll race you!"

They always used to race. The challenge brought a rush of excitement and familiarity, a pleasant 'home' feeling. Chance grinned and took off, not even warning Sally that he had accepted. As he always did. As it always should have been. His mistake was that he had let go of caution.

"Haha! Your on!" Chance yelled back, looking over his shoulder to find…nothing there.

Chance skidded to a stop, looking around, eyes darting over the surface of the hill. But the redhead wasn't there. As Chance was searching, the sky seemed to darken, not in the sense of a sunset-but with a grayish, mourning tint.

"Sally?" he called back. "Sally!"

But his own voice didn't seem to get anywhere-not even an echo. It was like it was trapped in his own head when his lips moved. And there was no sign of the girl.

"Sally?" Chance swallowed, mind now starting to search for possibilities.

Maybe she went home a different way.

Chance smiled a little, feeling somewhat reassured. "Little cheat. I bet you took the forest route. that's so unfair."

So the boy, gathering his thoughts and bearings ventured into the forest. The trees stood tall and firm, reaching towards the sky that was now turning more and more into the color of volcanic ash. But no ash fell.

About half an hour passed, and Chance's senses were now higher on alert than ever. He always took this route. He knew it like the back of his hand. But it seemed that every turn he took led him into yet more and more forest, thicker and thicker, and thicker still. It wasn't right. The forest was never this thick…or had it become like that over the years he was away from Silent Hill?

It was when his shoe made a strange sickening, wet sound did he realize that this was completely, terribly wrong. When did the sky get so dark? When did the trees turn such a nasty…rotting color? When did the grass begin to wither and turn black? When did the ground become so soaked? Chance looked down, lifting the foot that had made the odd squishing noise; and his heart almost stopped.

Red. His shoe was soaked almost to his sock with something wet…and red…

"Okay…" Chance gasped, swallowing and looking around. "Okay…okay calm down…"

A loud noise from behind him made him jump and nearly, very literally wet his pants. It was a strangled scream.

And he knew that voice.

"Sally!" he cried, shoes messily slipping and squishing the now thoroughly soaked ground.

In his scramble to reach the direction in which the voice had come from, he slipped and fell face first into the mud.

"Uuwwwaaaarrghh!" he yelled, upon the scent of copper invading his nostrils.

If he had denied it before, he couldn't deny it now. It was blood. He shrieked and ran, terror finally filling him, casting away all his sense and reason. He needed to find Sally, and he needed to get out of here!

"Sallyyyyy! Sallyyyy! Sallyyyyy!" he cried, over and over again, voice growing high-pitched and hysterical.

Ironically, much like his father's had when he had accidentally killed himself upon missing his intended target.

Chance ran and ran, running into trees and tearing off rotted branches out of his way, until finally the forest fell away..in reality, Chance fell away from the forest. His kneed met cold, solid concrete as he stumbled out of the foliage onto the sidewalk. He was in the old housing area of Shepherds' Glen.

And Sally's screams had stopped.

"Sally!" Chance cried one more time, pants wracking his voice, which was already growing tired. "Sally..!"

He knew this place though! And he knew it well! Chance momentarily mustered up his courage, thinking, knowing-he needed to get her and get OUT! He ran down the familiar street, passing by cars that looked too old t be in use, his shoes that were soaked to his very skin with blood make sickly noises against the grey pavement. Once he spotted Sally's house, three doors down from his, he slammed it open, and froze.

Sally Holloway was there. But at the same time, she wasn't there. Chance stared at the body hanging from the ceiling; the small body of a child. The small child, that had been Sally, the one he remembered. Around her neck was a noose, hanging from the ceiling. And around her waist were a pair of arms. Chance's eyes followed the arms that were wrapped tightly from pulling the now dead body down, horrified to find that they were her mother's.

"SALLY!" Chance screamed, making the woman who had given birth to the very child she had taken the life of to jolt in surprise and let go.

* * *

Aaand, I'll cut it off there~! See you next time, we'll have another PH appearance, and this time it's more than just some dream! Stay tuned!


	3. The Boy and the Monster

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

And now, to the fic!

* * *

Sally's mother gasped in shock and looked at the door, her wild eyes and hair stricken with madness. "Aah…aaah…" but her now unusable voice had been rendered to moaning and panicked sounds.

"Sally! Sally!" Chance cried, mad with panic himself at the sight.

He ran in, pushing the woman aside to try and get the girl down. No, no, no. She couldn't be dead. Not Sally. Not Sally! He just saw her! She was laughing, and teasing him! She was! Chance growled in frustration, unable to reach the top of the noose, however tall he was, the beam which held the body dangling was much higher.

As the woman gathered her bearing, much like chance did when he had fallen intuit he bloody forest, Chance looked around quickly, spotting a kitchen knife at the table, in it's case with several other.

For a brief moment, he saw a vision of his mother, chopping away at vegetables.

As the vision came and passed in the matter of a split second, Chance chanced at the blade, grabbing it and pulling it out of the case, sending the rest of it's accompanied cutlery to the floor. He ran back to the body, clutching the knife when a piercing scream sounded.

He jumped, whirling around to just narrowly miss a smaller version of the one he held in his grasp, grazing near his left eye but not quite hitting it's mark. Sally's mother panted, hair falling from it's already not-so-neat place into her face.

"My child to the noose…" she croaked, voice barely audible, bringing the knife back and aiming it more precisely for the other's chest. "And their child to the knife!"

Chance gasped and moved back, shoes wet from the bloody ground now proving slippery with the odd angle in which he was placing more weight on one foot than the other, and slipping under him. The woman screeches, knife plunging into Chance's shoulder, painfully striking bone.

"AAAAAAAH!" Chance screamed as pain erupted through his senses.

A child to the noose. And a child to the knife. Chance's pain did not go unnoticed by fate's sick sense of humor. As the knife pieced his skin, the dark cogs of chance began to turn. The nightmare drew nearer.

Chance grew angry as the blade was retracted from his shoulder in an attempt at yet another stabbing. He kicked the woman off disdainfully.

_"Beware of he who took them-he goes by many names…"_

The sinister whisper, though quiet was louder than anything in the room, as if it was overlaid atop the sounds of scuffling as Sally's mother screamed, cutting at Chance with the knife in her hand. The sound of Chance grunting with every cut that she landed on his arms, the sound of insanity.

_"The Bogeyman, the Shadowed One, but all are he, the same…"_

But Chance did hear it. And it shook him to the bone. In the corner of his eye, the floor of the house grew even darker, tiles cracking and becoming covered with a sickly ooze that resembled veins, which soon exploded into sprays of blood only to reform and explode again seconds later.

"_For every sin a child has, must be a punishment to bear…"_

The women however took no notice of this, and continued to attic Chance, who countered her blade with his own, getting fed up of being mutilated by the beast of a woman who killed his friend.

"_Your friends are now beyond our reach; trapped deep within his lair…"_

And the clang of metal against metal did not go unnoticed by the odds of this ill, twisted world that ways Silent Hill.

"_Your friends are now beyond our reach; trapped deep within his lair…"_

The sound of retaliation awoke something deep and never before tasted in this place of despair. A spark of chance for revenge.

"_And if they take what is not theirs, there can be no doubt..."_

He knew it. He always knew. It was the child's own parents that stole them away…! There was no monster!

Just like that, chance turned on Sally's mother, and spat in her face. The woman who was maniacally slashing at him suddenly stopped, dropping the knife. She had taken a life already, a life that was not her own. Therefore, not hers to take.

"You killed her.." Chance glared at her, grey eyes burning a bright, raging silver. "People like you should just die!"

With that final outburst, dark powers coursed in fulfillment of his desire.

"N-no…" she squeaked, stepping back. "No! You're not real..you were…you were a fairytale…you…"

Chance's eyes widened as he felt his guts drop. For some reason, he knew that feeling. A far-off-but familiar feeling, as a large arm, rippling with muscle and boasting of frightening strength, shot out from behind him. And all at once, he felt something huge and intruding was there. Fear crawled up his spine. The woman was grabbed by the throat-only fitting on account of how she had just strangled her daughter to death-and lifted off the ground.

Chance stole this moment to duck underneath the woman, her slightly heeled shoes almost taking out an eye as he did so. He turned as he went, fears confirmed, and realization dawning.

There stood the thing from his dream. In his vice-like grip, the woman struggled, choking. And everything made sense to Chance. As the monster grasped her neck, his free hand moved to the woman's dress,

_"And if they take what is not theirs, there can be no doubt…"_

And now, he could hear the voice, louder, and louder. He let it in, and this time, he listened. He wanted it to be real. And he watched as Pyramid head gripped the woman's chest-not her chest per-say, but the skin on her chest, gathering it into the pam of his hand as his fingers drew closed. And then he pulled.

_"He'll stretch their skin until it snaps, and all the blood drains out."_

And he pulled, and pulled, and pulled. The skin broke at her fingernails, flying up like whips, spraying blood everywhere. Her nose leaked blood like a faucet, as did her eyes and mouth. And she screamed. How she screamed. Chance stared, half of him was disgusted and half of him wanted, and even savored in the retribution. Sweet, sweet retribution.

Chance caught himself. What…? What was he thinking? No…no, no, no, no…this wasn't right. He would never want…it was disgusting! How could he event ink he enjoyed any of it?

…but she had killed Sally…

_"Remember to always behave, for sins he won't abide…"_

And now the beast dropped the bleeding, whimpering, pathetic sac of blood that was still wheezing, still alive, and in his other hand, he held all of her skin as a single chunk in his free hand. For a second, that was all Chance saw. And then, he dropped, both bloody parcels. The woman, still coughing, and clinging to life, that slowly, but surely, faded from her eyes.

He then turned his attentions to the boy. Chance's eyes winded when he realized, he was it's new interest. And from there, chance turned against the boy, and smiled, a cruel, iconic, glasgow smile. And the voice continued to speak.

_"He wields a rusty, jagged blade, to cut out your insides…."_

The monster's bloody right hand that had held skin now held itself out, chunks from the filthy, gore-infested ground forming a massive, heavy, rust-covered blade. Once the hand was in his fine, bone-breaking grip, the monster seemed to twitch and sway in a strange way, uttering a metallic bellow. And it took one slowly, frightening step towards Chance.

Chance was a sinner too.

Not wasting another second, he stood, his own relatively tiny knife still in his grasp. His breathing quickened as once more panic flooded his senses for one too many times today. He turned and ran to Sally's corpse, jumping high enough to cut through the rope just above the top of her head, taking a few hairs with it.

Despite that, he didn't let the body fall, catching it in his arms, as the monster took one final stride to loom above them both. Chance bolted. He dropped the knife and ran, carrying Sally's limp body out the back door, which he had to force open with a shove.

With a now throbbing shoulder he ran, and ran, and ran. But he could still hear it. And deafeningly so. A horrible, low screeching, the moaning of metal being dragged against floor, then wood, then concrete as it slowly, but surely, came after him. He could tell-it wasn't the metal being abused, but whatever came not contact with the filthy, possibly disease-infested blade became scarred, crawling with the same infection that now overtook Sally's home.

He looked back, only to be shocked to see that the monster with the cumbersome pyramid of a helmet was almost just five steps behind him. How on earth did he move so fast? He could have sworn that the steps he took were slow! The thing was much, much larger than him, and much taller, the half-apron-half-robe, stitched together and made from material that disturbingly mirrored the skin he tore off Sally's mother probably concealing long, powerful, muscular legs. Five steps to Chance must've been just one to whatever it was-this the boy, bitterly realized.

And five steps wasn't much distance, when the knife was put into the equation. This, it lighten, high over it's head, like it was made of styrofoam, or anything other than the thick, rusty steel it really was-and thrown down. Chance thankfully moved out of the way, skittering tot he side as he ran, Sally's body bringing him down when she reached up and yanked at his hair, gabbing a fistful of it-…WHAT?

Chance yelped in surprise, dead, lifeless, and yet very much active eyes staring into his own, the faded green instead of sparkling, looking like disgusting, toxic, sewage. He fell forward, rolling with the now animated body before his grip, and hers tore away, causing them to separate as they tumbled in the blood soaked grassy mud.

"S-sally…" Chance coughed, spitting out fistfuls of gore and grass, gag reflex going wild and he finally vomited. It was too much.

Sally in turn twitched, head turning an impossible angle and lips pulling into a maniacal smile. Chance cried out again, sitting up and backing away from her as her body twisted and tore in all manners of ways and places. When it was done contorting, it was not unlike a spier with four legs, crawling slowly towards him.

"Sally! No!" he said, tears prickling his eyes and causing his vision to burn-but he didn't know what was worse, the smell of it, or the fact that the sweet little girl was now dead, and whatever was coming at him had desecrated her innocent body, turning it into this abomination.

"Huurkk-…brullguh…" It didn't even speak right-it just gagged and groaned, moaning, spitting up blood and guts.

He felt another vomiting spell when the giant blade came crashing down into the squishy, blood-muddy grown, forcing the corpse into two halves, which still twitched and writhed. Chance screamed.

* * *

Cliffy~! Hehehe. So, please review and tell me what you think so far. Sorry it's a bit slow on the PHXChance action I know, but I like having a bit of development, and not just mindless smut. Also, if you'd like to see anything happen, let me kno


	4. Pyramid's Tongues

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

A little warning about this one, it's pretty sick. Then again, Silent HIll is pretty sick in itself so…but just to be fair. It's a little over-the-top and might disgust a lot of you. You've been warned. But if you survive this, there's delicious Yaoi action to come~! Hang in there? Hahaha… ^^'

* * *

Chance screamed, the body before him splitting into two halves and falling on each of their sides on the ground, limbs still twitching, voice still croaking. The giant helmeted man loomed over the boy, seeming to pause after his kill. The giant blade was slowly raised, being pulled back to the monster's side.

Yes, monster. It was the only thing Chance decided it could be. A man that large, scarred and cut in all kinds of places, with the massive pyramid-helmet on his shoulders hiding god-knows-what behind it's guise. Maybe he didn't even have a head…

Chance panted, staring up at the other, still scrambling back as the man-like creature advanced towards him. I long, slow and yet at the same time all-too-fast step brought them far, far too close together.

"Get away!" Chance yelled, getting to his feet, still staggering backwards.

He wasn't going to turn his back on this thing. He wasn't dumb enough to d that. Knowing that at any second that massive blade could come crashing down to split him in half next. The monster reached down, large arm rippling and screaming menace, as he grabbed the boy's shirt, lifting him off the ground before Chance could even think of getting away.

He could his body go cold with fear. Was he next to be skinned? Maybe…he had stolen a lot of things with Kurtis and the others. He was a thief, and thieves…well, the poem said everything.

"I-I'm sorry!" Chance cried. "I wont steal again! I swear! I swear! I-I won't take what's not mine anymo-mphh-!"

Chance flinched as the large thumb of the monster's free hand pressed against his lips, forcing it's way between them, causing a little bleeding from being pressed a little too tightly against the boy'd teeth. The rest of it's fingers curled, cradling the other's chin, and gripped the jaw effectively. Chance gasped as his mouth was forced open, body being jerked forward, towards the helmet suddenly.

The monster held the boy there steadily, Chance wriggling and squirming to get away. The taste was terrible, as the monsters thumb pressed against his tongue. It was copper, with a mix of something rotten and festering. Only appropriate, since from the forearm down, the red tint of blood only grew redder till the thing's fingertips.

A low groaning, or…growling was uttered by the beast holding the boy up, the helmet tilting closer, as if it were trying to see. Chance struggled to find an opening, any eye-hole of some sort, to peer into his captor's eyes. But there was nothing. Just broad, oxidized, rusting metal.

And just as quickly as he was picked up, he was dropped, colliding against the blood-soaked ground, coughing and wheezing. Fortunately, the monster had kept most it's grip on his jaw instead of his neck. Chance spat, the taste overwhelming his suddenly all-too-sensitive tongue. He didn't have time to think, to crawl away as a low siren rang through the air. He yelled, covering his ears.

* * *

"Kid. Hey Kid." Kurt shook the smaller body. "We're here, kid."

Chance's eyes snapped open, his breathing hitching and escalating to new heights. Kurtis snickered and patted the kid's shoulder.

"Yo, kid. Nightmare?" He asked, getting up. "Shoulda seen the look on the waitress' face when I carried ya in! She thought I'd murdered ya! Next time, I'm waken' ya up on the bike ya big baby!" he laughed.

Chance stared for a few seconds, before realizing he was on the couch of a diner that they must've stopped in.

"I think she's got a fancy for ya, too." Kurt added, winking before walking off to join the other men.

Chance sat up, wiping a hand over his face just to prove this was real. What…what kind of dream was that? It was so real! He felt everything and the smell…and the terrible taste…

"Hi." A young, female voice said, jolting him out of his thoughts.

He looked up to find a young girl, around sixteen, dressed in a waitress' uniform, deep, dark brown eyes like chocolate and light blonde hair-most likely bleached. She was asian.

"H-hi…" he responded.

"I was told you might want a drink after waking up." she smiled. "Orange juice?" she asked, placing said drink on the table before him.

He smiled back weakly. "Thanks…"

"Are you alright?" she asked, holding the tray down against her lap, "You really scared your…uhm…friends…"

Chance glanced over at the noisy, rowdy group, spotting their bikes parked just outside the window of the diner. They had been on the road for awhile now, he guessed.

"What happened?" Chance asked.

The girl seemed to hesitate for a second before replying. "Well, you were unconscious so…I suppose you don't know. You were thrashing around quite violently….and making noises…"

Chance stared. "I…I'm sorry…" he said awkwardly. "Was it…that bad?"

"That man who just woke you up looks like he'd almost fallen off his bike. There's a gash on his back that I had to patch up awhile ago." she explained.

Chance nodded. "Thanks…" But he knew Kurt wouldn't have told him even if he pushed the matter.

"What's your name?" Chance asked,

Sadly, fate had more than just one terrible dream in store for the boy. Now that the gateway into that dark world had been pushed open a crack-and the wielder of the Great Knife had touched the child, it was time for all hell's beasts to break loose.

* * *

The second dream came soon after: Chance's fits forced the gang to make a stop just on the outskirts of Centralia, Pennsylvania. they had yet to make the journey through the town and head South to their new home.

As they neared the border between highway and settlement, Chance's nausea hit back full force. The arms wrapped securely around Kurt's back and stomach began to tighten dramatically. Kurt, in shock, swerved, narrowly missing a car that had been going towards them on the opposite lane.

"Kid!" He cried, screeching his bike to a stop. The others followed suit, getting off their bikes and hurrying to the two.

"Kurtis!" John bellowed. "What's wrong?"

"Chance!" Kurtis choke the body, the boy's eyes staring straight ahead, despite the jostling. "He's not breathing right!"

John grunted, picking the boy up in his arms and kneeling, setting him gently against his own bent knee. He checked for the pulse, pressing two fingers against Chance's neck. "Kid's heart is racing, but he ain't breathing hard. This is bad."

"Boss' maybe we'cn get'm ta doc'n town?" one of their subordinates suggested.

John nodded and lifted the boy up once more. "He's ridin' with me."

Chance panted shallow and fast, feeling his heart pound against his ribs, the sky was turning that dark, dismal grey he had memorized from his terrible nightmare, only a few hours ago. He felt everything, the nausea amplifying the sensations of being touched and checked. He felt sick and dizzy as he was hoisted from the ground onto the sidecar that was attached to John's bike. (He had been hoping to occupy it with a hot chick in the next town, but for now, it's purpose had been overruled.)

But as they neared the border of the town and passed it, further in, the building began to crumble and turn a deathly corroded state. Chance's breathing became faster and faster, until he thought he was going to faint. The buildings weren't the only thing that worsened, the ground began to crackle and break up, the trees withering and dying.

The throbbing in his head only worsened and however he tried to keep his eyes open, for fear of never waking up, he blinked. And awoke, to find himself lying in the middle of the road.

Chance staggered to his feet, looking at the dilapidated, gore-smeared surroundings.

"Not again…" he panted.

A dream. It must be just another dream. Yeah…he just passed out in the sidecar of John's bike…he was dreaming…

The sign leading to the entrance of the town read the tell-tale 'Silent Hill', though he didn't need to specifically look at it to know what it said. He dreaded the thought of being back here, in this hellish place.

This wasn't the home he knew. It couldn't have been…what happened? Chance wondered as he walked through the broken and torn houses, infected with the same ooze that dripped from the Great Knife.

The barking of a dog made him jerk his head up.

"It's just a dream…" he said to himself. "I'm going to wake up…I'm going to wake up soon so…"

He kept whispering reassurances to himself as he walked towards the sound. The barking grew louder, multiplying by two. There must have been more dogs than he had heard the first time. The street he was headed down had a blackened road, blacker than the roads leading to it, a fallen telephone line obstructed his path, but not completely, as he was limber and tall enough to climb over it without touching any of the insulated wire. As he made his way over it, the building to the right of the road came closer into view, and he could make out a plaque that was nailed to the wood of it, reading 'Library'

…where the Barletts worked. He swallowed, venturing on.

There were four dogs…but they…they just didn't look right. Bodies that were segmented…cut and diced and then…out back together…organs sticking out here and there…Chance stopped in his tracks, unknowing as of what to do.

There was something on the ground they were all feeding on. Something bloody, choking, red and skinless-no…!

"No fucking..way…" Chance swallowed, taking a step back when he heard the sound of metal being wrenched apart and a door falling against rotten wooden flooring.

Heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of what he now understood was the punisher…the wielder of the Great Knife. A deep, dark knowledge, infused into him by The Order through his tainted blood despite his obvious rebellion and resulting retaliation i the form of this nightmarish town. Though the boy had yet to understand it fully. He knew well enough…the creature was meant to wreak havoc on those who had sinned.

…but why didn't it hurt him?

Fear drove him to hide, but curiosity made him choose this option over running away. Without the weight of a corpse to slow him down, he could easily outrun it. But he wanted to know. So easily…he could kill Chance so easily..and yet he had him right there in it's monstrous grasp…and did nothing. Was it because he had begged?

The large man-though he looked like one, as much as Chance knew better now-approached the pile of…what must have used to have been normal dogs, Doberman by the look of it slowly, dragging that wrenched knife behind him. The large pyramid that sat upon his shoulders most likely being the probably cause for it. The dogs seemed to sense the greater being's presence, and in turn scattered-amazing, Chance thought…even other monsters stole away at the sight of him.

Now, the bloodied body, still writhing and moaning in great agony was fully exposed to them both. And Chance's fears were confirmed. It's what was left of Sally's mother. And she was still alive-just barely, but quite there.

Chance felt a chill run up his spine-..what if this place didn't let you die?

That thought was pushed aside for the moment as-Pyramid Head-for in such a dire situation, one would try to come up with a more comical name to remember something so frightening in order to keep from losing one's mind; and, Bogeyman was in fact, already frightening thanks to the original poem Chance now knew had something to do with all of this. Otherwise, he wouldn't have heard that voice. He wouldn't have seen his mother…

…it did save him from Sally's mother…somewhat…?

But what was it doing now?

Pyramid Head picked up the ankle of the bloodied, wheezing, pathetic parcel of a human and began dragging her away, bore muscle and ligaments tearing away at the ground, twigs and stones beneath. The moaning increased in volume.

…yes…she deserved that. She killed Sally-stop! No…what was he thinking. No…no matter what anyone did…this was too much…Chance shook his head, fearing for the first time and understanding; he was probably worse than the beast that was causing her all that pain.

But those worries would have to wait until he had time to think; he watched carefully, quietly, as Pyramid Head dragged the corpse away from the library, further into town. Chance followed, reluctantly, yet, the curiosity was now overtaking earlier senses of caution. He dared so much as to occasionally run ahead of the large monster-of-a-man, and hide, watching him pass-by.

They came to a strange, large building, around the school area. It was amongst the three buildings in the courtyard, and mirrored the other two. Only as they both entered, Chance noticed the immediate change in the air. The smell of rotting flesh was suddenly so pungent and strong. The floor was littered with remains of what seemed to be deformed bodies and strange bones that didn't seem to make sense.

For example, a collection of anatomically correct skeletal pieces that resembled a human with their hands down to the crotch area-but the bones of the arms were deformed and incomplete, fused into the ribs and pelvis. As if it walked in that fashion for all it's life. The large hole in the skull-though suggesting blunt force trauma, seemed natural more than forced. (A/N: If you still don't get it, it's the Lying Figure's remains.)

He also noticed strange, fat ribbons, nailed to the walls in a peculiar fashion. They formed very rough, but noticeable rows, each different lengths and widths. Some very small, and some rather large. It was then; the voice had finally returned to torment Chance.

"_The lying little children, with souls selfish and small…."_

_...Will find their wriggling tongues cut out, and nailed to his wall."_

Chance almost gagged. They were tongues! Not ribbons! This…this was the creature's home…and he waltzed right into it…and then, remembering the earlier encounter with Pyramid Head inspecting his mouth-or now, he knew, his tongue-Chance had an inkling of genius. And he knew. The poem was becoming real. Maybe not real, real, but in his dreams. It was him..his own sick fantasy…

He hadn't been harmed, because he had begged in all honesty he wouldn't sin again. Or maybe it was because he had conjured up this…this thing…like he did with mother singing to him that night. After all, they had come in the same dream. This was his sick hell. Maybe it was because this was all /his/ dream, that he hadn't been harmed. He had willed it somehow…

Chance was momentarily disgusted with himself. There must have been some mistake…an explanation. He shook his head, understanding everything and yet nothing at all. All the while, fate laughed at him as the sound of flesh splattering wetly against metal echoed rom down the hall. Chance looked up-he had forgotten he was following Pyramid Head. He didn't want anymore. He was tired of it all! This wasn't his idea, and he wanted no more of it.

He was going to try and stop Pyramid Head.

* * *

Aaaand, I shall end it here for now. Next chapter's gonna be a bit…disturbing. More so than this, unfortunately. Do brace yourselves. For those who love SIlent Hill, just think of it as…suggestions to make it even worse than it already is on the 'scare-scale'.

PHXChance will happen soon, very soon, I promise, now that everything's wrapping up nicely together! Do share your ideas if you'd like to see anything in particular happen!


	5. Of Mazes and Rape

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

As I said, this chapter's going to be a tad more disturbing thanks to our favorite monster and lady-killer, Pyramid Head. But don't worry, the Yaoi yumminess will hopefully begin in this chapter (I'm trying my best to keep it from going down the drain mushy). ;P Venture forth, only the brave ones shall survive!

Chance watched, swallowing his fear, feeling the lump uneasily push it's way down his throat. Pyramid Head had flung the body onto a large metal table, cluttered with all kinds of things.

* * *

The surroundings were dark; making it hard to see. Overhead large fans filtered in the light, carrying dust down onto the floor from the high ceiling. Pipes and wires of all shapes, kinds and sized cluttered the air around between strange fences and cages. Some of which held dead bodies, some holding writhing beasts, that seemed to be already near dead. All of which were bound. They disturbingly resembled deformed humans. Chance could make out pairs of legs, arms, torsos, on some of them, deforming into the strange monstrous parts that distinguished them from normal human beings. They were creatures like Pyramid Head it seemed.

Chance swallowed again, at the mere thought of running into any of those things out in the open. Come to think of it, those dogs would have been dangerous too.

Pyramid Head moved over the body, now almost completely drained of all it's blood. And those massive hands moved, grasping the thighs and almost snapping the bone in two with it's strength. And then, he forced them apart.

"The fu-…" Chance felt his throat tighten.

Being eighteen, and one of the…less-than-behaved- kids at school; meant he knew when something looked…odd…in that…very peculiar, sort of way…

"Oh fuck…oh fuck…" Chance panted, eyes widening.

Pyramid Head groaned, smelling the last of the now festering blood, draining from the open flesh under him. A delicious, sick, dying smell. An exciting smell. A smell he couldn't resist. The punisher leaned back, drawing his robe-like apron to the side just enough, the large, blood-patch-colored cock springing free from the material. It stood proudly.

Chance swallowed again, throat all too dry. No way…he was going this to a dying woman…a dying woman he just skinned!

Pyramid Head shoved himself inside the now fleeting warmth of the almost corpse. The rhythm was rough and fast, tearing away at the vaginal flesh and violating the near-corpse.

Chance gave in, bending over and vomiting onto the already soiled concrete tiling of the maze-like chamber. He coughed, feeling sick and dizzy and tired, all at once. This place…evil! Evil! Evil! He needed to get out! He needed to get out, now! It was driving him insane.

Pyramid Head groaned, hearing the splatter of bile, chugged up from the boy's bowels. He growled, metal vibrations ringing through the maze-like factory. Chance gasped, coughing still, getting to his feet. Pyramid Head removed himself from the united corpse, weakened body heaving from the massive opening he had torn between her legs. She lay, eyes now almost fully dead and still dying. Her soul could not go though. Because this was where they went to be punished.

Pyramid Head urned his head slowly, hearing Chance's frightened footsteps as he staggered to find a way out of the cage-maze. But only one knew how to get in and out, and that was the monster himself.

A child to the noose. A child to the knife. Pyramid Head, wielded that knife. And so, he wielded Chance's fate, just as fate had wielded Chance's very existence and manipulated his dreams to form the hellish nightmare known as Silent Hill.

Pyramid Head turned once more to the defiled corpse, animalistic need to rut still ever present within him. But the lady was dead, and a dead corpse was no fun. He needed something fresh. Ironically, now, was the perfect 'chance'.

Chance and fate, chance and fate.

Which one would win? Chance the embodiment of chance itself, or fate; life's cruel jokester?

Pyramid Head gripped the corpse's limp, bloody arm, still seeping the last bits of life's carrier from it's exposed veins. He ripped the joint, forcibly forcing the ball and socket apart in a bloody tearing. He'd devour the corpse later. After the chase.

He turned, grabbing the hilt of the knife that started everything, and dragged it away, giving slow, but paced chase.

Chance turned. No, there was no way. He'd been down this particular path before. Shit, shit SHIT! He didn't know where he was. Every hall looked just about the same. Criss-cross fence tiling and walls that lead to yet more cage-like halls, hanging over what seemed to be darkness that stretched down eternally when he tired to make out floor below. But he had known better. Passing by the mid-section of the maze showed a mess of gears and noisy clockwork, hooks that swung about mechanically, some with hanging torsos and other body parts-and when he tried to peer down into the well of darkness he found nothing but more darkness. More gears. More cages. More clockwork. More blood and rust.

Exit. Where was the exit?

Chance turned, and soon dreaded his decision to run down this hallway. There were only two pathways, where he'd just come from, and another, unexplored hallway to the right. Even if the hallway hadn't looked any different from those he had ventured through before, he was sure that ot was his only way out now.

For down the hallway he had just run in from, Pyramid Head approached. His towering bulk of a form was enough to almost completely block off and fill the entire hallway. The groaning of his Great Knife came thundering into Chance's already ringing ears, overlaying even the sounds of the gears that clanged and jammed together.

Chance swallowed, seeing the giant form come closer and closer every second. No way. He was sure he hadn't been wandering around in this place for very long. How on earth could that thing have found him so easily?

He mentally cursed, bolting downy he unexplored hallway, hoping that this would be the one to lead him to the exit. Fate dealt him a cruel card to play. And this time, Chance's chances weren't too good.

Chance panted heavily, having run around back and froth several times in his futile attempt to find the exit. He stopped when the labyrinth path suddenly ended, in front of him a criss-cross wire fence that mirrored everything else around him, suspended by seemingly nothing over the cogs and gears and churned just below. No.

He swallowed, turning back to confirm his dire situation. Pyramid Head was closing in, slowly, suspenseful. He always hated those horror movies where it took forever for something to happen. It kept him waiting, dread building up and spilling over. He knew it. He was going to be killed by this thing. And he knew.

He was the child that had been sworn to torture and death by the knife.

Pyramid Head was merely ten meters away now, and with the way his bulk had filled up the entire pathway, barely managing to fit alongside him, Chance had absolutely nowhere left to run. But he could climb.

Primal instinct to survive took over and Chance turned once more to the fence that shouldn't have been there. The fence that sealed his fate, now trying to turn it into something that would save him. After all, as weak as it was…there was a chance for everything.

The boy gripped the fence, fingers sliding perfectly between the wires as he heaved himself up. Even if he did make it all the way up, the knife would surely still be able to reach him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to die without a fight. Chance struggled, heaving himself up, fingers straining painfully after the first five steps, even then, he hadn't even reached the range he would've desired for safety.

Pyramid Head approached, purposely slowing his progression to watch his prey struggle. This was the boy that had conjured him up once more, ever since James Sunderland had been punished. This was the chance he had to manifest as reality in the world, and not just in the world that James had accidentally created and fallen into. But a reality in entirety. Silent Hill's very own plane of existence. Such interesting prey. So much fun to watch.

He would be even more fun to gut. The ones that were fit enough to run and strong enough to fight were always the most interesting. They were the living ones. Unlike those he had the duty of punishing; sinners who had died without fully receiving their punishment. Pyramid Head inched ever closer, grasping his ankle, just as Chance nearly crawled his way up the fence out of reach.

"Aaaah!" Chance gave a start, gripping the wire with all his might.

Pyramid Head yanked him slowly, the groaned of wire and metal echoing through the labyrinth. Chance screamed and screamed, clinging desperately onto the fence. Pyramid Head in turn yanked and yanked, the fence coming off, nearly ripping Chance's fingers off in the process as well. It came crashing down, Chance along with it, right on top of Pyramid Head's helmet.

Chance's back collides against the heavy steel, sending a sharp pain up his spine. He yelped, finally letting go of the fence. Pyramid Head didn't even budge, head barely tilting with the impact, but otherwise unfazed. Chance dropped to the platform once more, landing on his shoulder, wincing and groaning in pain.

Pyramid Head relished the feel of watching his prey writhe in pain, lifting the knife over his head just as steadily as he had stalked him. Chance gasped, looking up at the motion, hearing the heavy swish through the air and diving back towards the now gaping hole in the labyrinth fences. Pyramid Head swung down, knife denting the metal it came into contact with, the impact sending a resonating vibration, shaking Chance's footing as he struggled to rise to his feet. In the end, he toppled backwards, right into the remaining fencing at the former-dead-end.

And Chance fell. He fell and fell, and fell some more, plummeting into the darkness, intuit he mess of cogs and hooks, deeper and deeper into the monster's lair.

Pyramid Head stood, seeming to stare down into the abyss of no light. Only he knew where the boy's drop would lead him. The boy was already caught in his trap. There was only one way in and one way out of this labyrinth of blood and death. And only Pyramid Head could lead the way. The punisher, so very ironically the only hope of escape.

* * *

For now I'll stop there, since I haven't updated in a bit for this. I've got a few ideas as to how it should go, but again I am very open to suggestions


	6. Silently Realized

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

Chance groaned. Where was he? Oh god…the pain. The pain in his shoulder and ankle was throbbing and unrelenting. He flinched as he tried to get up, opening up his eyes even wider. But yet he saw nothing. It was pure black at first, before he made out some very dark reddish tint all around him, shapes of all kinds; and eventually the noise finally came. The sound of clanking and gyrating gears. He had managed to fall right through them.

"Ow!"

…mostly.

He sat up, panting and feeling around for anything to let him know he wasn't dead. He couldn't be…right? He still felt pain.

What he didn't know was that spirits also felt pain. Which is why they were sent here to be punished as due their trespasses.

"Shit…" he cursed, grasping the shoulder he had fallen on when the monster had yanked him off the fence. "Jesus that hurts…"

Fate laughed. There was no god here. Not here.

Chance panted and looked around, finding the area to be only very dimly lit by an eerie blue light. As blue as it was though, the rust and grime and blood on the walls and floor was obvious. He shivered, thinking back to what he had seen that had caused him to fly instead of fight.

This place was sick! There was no way it was his. Well, not in entirety…he hoped.

But the knowledge that this town was not his creation, would not save the boy from his nightmare, not this moment. The town was manifesting, taking place of the one in the waking world known as Centralia. Through the boy's dreams, and his very being, it was coming to life. It had come to life. And it was his nightmare now. His worst fears, his deepest desires, his darkest sins, made real. Just as Silent Hill should be. Just as Silent Hill always has been to all those that have fallen into it's trap of divine judgement.

But this time, the town had come to him first.

Chance coughed, finally registering the disgusting smell of odd sorts. A mix of methane, hydrogen sulphide, and carbon dioxide. The smell of rotting flesh. And god, it was horrible.

Wherever he was now however, it was a lot better than being sliced in half by that beast. Chance sighed, but shot up as soon as he heard that god-awful scraping. The groaning of metal against metal. A noise that by now, he had learned to fear. He stood, flinching as more ached and pains indicated he was more injured than he previously thought. A tell-tale stream of blood coming from his only now-noticed ripped pant leg had him guess that it had been one of the empty dangling hooks, that must've cut through him as he zipped by.

He cringed, looking around and spotting a few odd cogs out of the way, leaning against the wall. Some turning, some not. But they were all misfits…

…all of them were turning.

Despite not being attached to any mechanism or gears from above the mess of clockwork he had fallen through, they all turned!

Chance could hear the scraping of metal on infested flooring getting closer and closer still. Wherever this place was, it was still part of the labyrinth; and Pyramid Head knew it well. That much, Chance was certain of now. The beast had indeed tracked him down in a matter of minutes, despite the complicated arrangements of seemingly unending hallways and dead-ends.

In one direction, an odd stairway and the monster approaching, and in the other, the strange cogs, leading on and on into darkness. A darkness that, though menacing, now was his only offer of protection. Hidden from sight, at least he could bide his time.

Chance bolted for the darkness, past the clanking and churning cogs, banging against nothing and yet continuing to move. He heaved his injured body past them, squeezing through more that popped up out of the dark of the strange hallway. Was it a hallway? Was it a corner? Would a wall suddenly come up and smack him in the face? He didn't know. All he could see were the cogs that moved and appeared at their own will.

* * *

_"What's your name?" Chance asked,_

_Sadly, fate had more than just one terrible dream in store for the boy. Now that the gateway into that dark world had been pushed open a crack-and the wielder of the Great Knife had touched the child, it was time for all hell's beasts to break loose…_

_"My name is Ormia."_

* * *

Chance stopped, hearing the cogs sounds grow more and more faint. Until all that was left was pure darkness. But it wasn't a choking, shadowy darkness. It was a thin darkness. And then chance realized…he could open his eyes.

"Or…mia…?" Chance breathed, sitting up, finding it hard to move his shoulder and leg.

The waitress smiled and forced him back down. "Please don't move just yet. You're at my place. Your friends are downstairs. Father's a doctor, and he's looking after your brother's wounds."

"What happeed?" Chance panted, sighing and closing his eyes. "thank god…"

"It's not just a dream." Ormia said.

Chance's eyes shot open and he looked at her. "…"

"Pyramid Head. The Executioner. The Bogeyman." Ormia said, "Just as Shakespeare's Hamlet was despair incarnate, Pyramid Head is punishment and divine wrath incarnate. And you…are chance, incarnate."

Chance stared at the strange girl who he had met mere hours ago at the diner. Such an innocent face that hid millions of secrets.

"I'll ask you something." Ormia continued. "Which one is the dream?"

Chance gasped, coughing up chunks of partially clotted blood and body lurching forward. The noise of the cogs was back and louder than ever. His leg was bleeding badly and he could feel his shoulder throb. There was no bed, just the disgusting gore-covered floor, littered with several body parts and bones.

He panted, looking up at the cogs that twisted and turned, past them and even further through the dim light, he saw the broken platform he had fallen off of earlier.

Pyramid Head stood over the boy on the floor, looming. Chance gave a start and turned around, suddenly very aware of the other's presence. Despite everything, he could not scream. Injured and bleeding, tired and hungry and more confused than ever. No, no, no! Did he imagine it?

It was possible. At this point, he believed anything was possible.

Which one was the dream? What did that mean? Chance staggered to his feet, backing away towards where the odd cogs had been before. Only now, there was solid wall, covered in the same drippings and filth that covered the whole of the town.

"Who are you?" Chance demanded, "Why have you been in my dreams? What do you want?"

Pyramid Head stood still, and the boy feared he was contemplating what horrors he would put him through before finally killing him.

"You're sick!" Chance screamed, clutching his hurting shoulder and limping back, pressing himself against the wall. "Get away from me!"

He may not have harmed him before, but now the monster was more free than ever. Free to feast on the flesh of the foolish who strayed into it's domain. For here, in the labyrinth, the monster could do as he pleased. The enigma of Silent Hill was now real.

"The punisher…" Chance said, staring at the menacing helmet that sat on the monster's shoulders. "You're here to cut me down, right?"

Pyramid Head finally moved, the pyramid turning, tilting slightly to the left, as if in questioning. For a mere second, intelligent thought passed through the instinctive punisher's rotted mind. Yes, this was the child sworn to die by the knife. But that was a rule created by humans. The same human's he punished. Perhaps…

"Just like Sally was hung…and her mother was skinned…it's all because of the Order, right?" Chance went on. "Go on and try!"

Chance was a fighter. In his embodiment of chance; something that should not exist if fate were absolute…he fought against it. Fighting, fighting, from the beginning he was always fighting against his fate.

"I won't die!" Chance declared.

That last outburst finally stirred a reaction from Pyramid Head, who raised his Great Knife above his head-swift, precise. Chance didn't flinch, he rolled to the side, bracing himself against a stray fallen cog that had become partway lodged into the floor.

But the knife did not come down. "What…"

A low groaning, broken off into fragmented pieces, resembled laughter. Coming from in the helmet.

Despair fed his body and made him stronger, screams made his rotting heart race and more excited, and the thrill of the chase and itching the life drain out of a poor soul's eyes was nirvana. His new pray was just so amusing. So weak and yet relentless. It was the most fun the executioner would have in many years to come. He would savor it. Who knows when a meal like this boy was going to come around next? Someone chosen by fate to die without hope didn't come every era.

Chance grimaced, knowing that he was the one being made fun of. "Khh…"

Screw this! He was getting out of this fucked up place. chance turned and bolted for the very stairs the beast had come down from, knowing very well Pyramid Head was going to be after him in a matter of moments if he dared slip up or look back. Heavy footsteps made the metal clang and by now Chance was getting sick of all the metallic noise. He could hear the groaning of the monster that chased after him.

"I'm not going to die here…I'm not going to be killed by you…" he said, gasping for air as his lungs heaved to haul his damaged body through the maze structure.

Not here again, he thought. He closed his eyes and listened for the sound of gears, turning and heading in that direction, just before he felt a rush of wind, and a heavy bang against the steel flooring where he had stood a mere second ago.

Chance yelled in surprise, but his run was undeterred as he bolted, glancing back to see Pyramid Head raise the Great Knife from the dent it made in the steel. The monster followed him still. The boy ran and ran, and ran some more. He stopped, listening to the sound of clanking, turning left and running down the hallway where it was louder. If he could find the middle, he could find a way out, he thought.

Pyramid Head was close behind him all the way, almost breathing down his neck. The speed in which he moved was irrelevant. This was his domain, and he always had the upper hand. It was one of Silent Hill's little rules. Chance skidded to halt, grasping the thin railing that kept him from falling into the cogs once more. He panted, peering down into the depths of darkness he had plummeted through before. It was a miracle he had survived, now that he thought about him.

Either that, or fate wasn't finished with him yet. He cursed at that.

The noise was unbearable now and he screamed in surprise as the Great Knife came crashing down next to him, as he momentarily forgot his predicament. He stumbled out of the way, Pyramid Head chiding at him, swishing the knife sideways to lop of his head.

Luckilly for Chance, the steel the Great Knife had just dented took his place, and he staggered away, looking around briefly. Through the many cages and hooks, cogs and fence, he could see one section that was undeniably deprived of it's dead-end hallway-where he had fallen. He quickly glanced, noting from memory where he had been that led him in circles, and went down the hallway next to the one that nearly sealed his fate.

To his delight-though very dim and fleeting-the hallway led to a set of stairs. Good news, was that it was possibly the way out. bad news was that it meant more climbing, and already his body was yelling at him to take a rest. Pyramid Head though, would not let him have such luxury. Chance knew that.

* * *

Chance stumbled up and up, passing by cages of more bodies, these more human, more recognizable. He cringed at the thought of occupying any of the empty ones. Sadly for him, fate was not so kind. It had something more…interesting in store for him. Higher and higher he went, until he felt the drip of smelly, cool, water showering down on him like a light rain. He looked up and noticed pipes jutting out from everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.

It was then he noticed the sound of the cogs were gone, and he could hear instead the turning of industrial fans, and the bright yellow-red of molten metal. A factory.

"Wha…when…" he breathed, but ran on, fearing the punisher who might've still been behind.

He didn't care, as long as he was able to get away, as far away as possible from the labyrinth. He began to see light, coming form above. Wherever he was now, it was better than where he had been. He ace to the end of the stairs, surprised to find a concrete hallway, littered with wallpaper and blood, rust and dirt on the walls, lockers lined up, some dented and broken and some just worn by time. A school?

The exit! There was an exit! If this was a school building there had to be an exit! He ran down the hall, towards the door that had dim but white-grey light seeping through the windows. Yes!

However, there were planks of wood, barricading the door closed. But with being so close, Chance wasn't about to stop now. He grabbed at a plank, yanking at it with all his might. The wood was old and rotten, still strong in some places, but not impossible to break. He pulled it apart, causing a few splinters to dig into his hands. He could get them out later, he though, mind rushing.

"Fuck-!" he cringed, hearing the tell-tale groaning approaching.

He grabbed the next plank, yanking, forcing his already splintered hands to bleed. He kicked the door, falling back as the plank came off with a pop. Chance scrambled to his feet, kicking the last plank, straining his knee and throwing the double doors open. He stumbled out, breathing hard, not looking back for fear of-

"Omph-!" he grunted, colliding with a scarred, solid abdominal muscles.

Pyramid Head watched the boy fall, standing before the double doors on the outside. Despite having grayish dim daylight around them both, the fiend still stood strong.

"N-no…you…you're not supposed to be able to…" Chance panted, staring up at the fiend.

Time and time again…why? Why was he always in this position. Like a rat, trapped in a box. Being poked and prodded at, pushed and pulled this way and that. Was this all he could do, try as he might?

But the town was complete now. Everything was set, and Chance was right in the middle of it. At this point, Chance's dreams were no longer needed. The executioner could now stand in full sunlight, and still heave breaths of life. Chance was near-collateral now. The poem was almost complete.

Pyramid Head grabbed the boy suddenly, causing a wave of panic to wash over Chance. Wh-what was he going to do? Was it time for his slaughter? Why wasn't he using the knife, here and now?

But the bogeyman had other plans. Until the town was finally stable and permanent-it would actually be bad if anything happened to the boy. Up until now, it was all a sick game, an intentional pointless chase. All for the fun of it. The boy was indeed, very entertaining.

"L-let go, you bastard!" Chance demanded, kicking at the steel as hard as he could as he was lifted off the ground.

Pyramid Head threw him over his shoulder, venturing back into the school. Chance panted, eyes widening hysterically when he realized he was being taken back into the godforsaken maze of gore and death.

* * *

The whole way down Chance struggled, kicking and screaming, not unlike a frightened child would. But in Silent Hill, there was no room for sanity when your life was constantly being threatened every waking moment. Chance's body grew weary with every step the monster took, having been tossed and thrown and fallen through, abused and tried. Not just mentally tired either, but he was just about at his wits end.

As far as chance went, most people would rather believe in fate.

"No…no…" Chance said weakly, vision going dark-after all the kicking and screaming and struggling in Pyramid Head's iron grip, it was all he had to energy left to do.

Finally, darkness overtook Chance, mind, body and soul. Silent Hill had conjured up thanks to him, and now, it wasn't going to let him go.

Neither was Pyramid Head.

* * *

And this is where I'll end this chapter for now. I know, I know, I keep promising some Yaoi action, but it shall come soon! Don't worry. Next chapter, I'll try to get it in, but it's hard to do so. (LOL that's what she said.)

So just to clarify, the town has now replaced Chance's reality, in a switch-out for his dreams. Now the real world has taken the place of his dreams; Ormia is also my OC. Just to add some more what-the-fuck-just-happened to this plot, since Silent Hill is full of that delightful shit. I'm working on the next chapter now, which will be mostly focused on Pyramid Head and Chance's interaction.


	7. Fighter's Fall

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

The grinding. The terrible sound of grinding steel and metal, worn with rust of ages and times beyond the world's comprehension. Pyramid Head walked past the gears in the deepest parts of hell, known as Silent Hill. He set his knife down, leaning it against the wall in a nearby corner. The warehouse-like structure had cages hung around in rows, about twenty-four in total, twelve on his left and right. At the centre of the room was a table, covered in remains of severed body parts and painted in blood, in some places browning from coagulation and rust.

His stride was wide and proud, terrifying and strong. The monster of Silent Hill, fear's king, more real, more powerful than ever. No longer limited to the mind of the insane, soon to be realized for all time. Hell was coming to the waking world. One more time. Every muscle, beautifully rippling and boasting of the might with which he swung the knife of punishment, every sick rut and meal of sinner's dying, abused bodies well-deserved. For if the bogeyman came for you, surely it was your fate to die by his hand.

Pyramid Head himself was complete-the one-track-minded monster was free to rule over the domain of by which fate's sick whims was created through his latest muse. And that's exactly what he did. Now, Silent Hill was everyone's personal hell.

For example, his latest catch consisted of a young waitress from a diner near the outskirts of Centrailia Pennsylvania…what was her name again? Not that it mattered much. Not in the punisher's eyes. The poem was once again in motion.

"_The bullies and their spiteful wrath will find torment as well…."_

He knew her sins; as he did everyone's. the worst of them all however, was why she was here. At the age of twelve she had become a cruel girl, beautiful as she was, she could get anyone at school to do what she wanted. And so she did. A couple of hairy caterpillar's in a poor girl's pencil case. A few thumbtacks in someone's shoes. A suicide off the top of the school roof. As much as she repented, there were those who never forgave her, no matter how many years passed.

"_Soon he will strike them where they stand and drag them into hell…"_

Pain was never a thing of the past. Not for some. And not for her, now. The girl struggled, knowing very well why she was here, being dragged through the door and across glass and bones, vomit and blood on the floor into the room. She screamed, but did not beg for mercy. She was far too proud for that.

Silent Hill was done with her. She was used to draw Chance in for good, and now that the boy was safely stored in Pyramid Head's labyrinth prison; there was no more need for such a sinner.

Her punishment was deliciously slow and painful. Much like the torture she had inflicted on those in the other world. A world now too far out of her reach to escape to. Gut torn open, intestines spilled, lungs gasping, tears streaming, legs parted, body violated…and she still stared onto the dark ceiling, very much alive…

* * *

"Uurghuu…"

Chance groaned, neck sore on top of everything else. Luckily, the pain of his shoulder and his injured leg wasn't much but a dull throb. He sat up find himself in one of those god-damned cages he saw hanging about here and there. He sighed, so he was finally in the one place he had imagined hating to be. Damn everything. Damn it all.

"Fuck…" he said, leaning his head back against the bars, grimacing in the realization that the was possibly sitting on someone else's remains and excrement. He doubted that Pyramid Head would clean these cages.

Chance cringed and sat upright again. His jeans were durable, they could take the filth as long as nothing seeped through. The boy took a look at himself. His hands, which had been covered by the biking gloves Kurtis had given him when he was first brought into the gang had done very little to protect against the splinters that made his fingers sore. The tips of which were already covered in his own blood plus what was on the beast's arms, and if not other infectious things. The bottoms of his jeans were already covered in the same red organic paint, sneakers worse for wear.

After taking note of his injuries and trying to remember to be careful, he dared a look around. He was suspended above the ground, a few meters judging from how far the equally disgusting concrete looked. There were other cages around him, like those from what he could remember in the labyrinth, some were empty, some contained the rotting remains of what seemed to be other monsters or human beings. Either way, he was starting not to care. He wanted out.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Though old and rusting, the cage looked rather firm. He didn't think the monster was dumb enough not to make sure of that. Chance was trying to figure out a way to escape, observing several weak spots in the cage, when he heard it once more. It had been awhile, but he was sure…it was the voice of the poem.

"_The bullies and their spiteful wrath will find torment as well…."_

He froze, waiting for something, anything to happen. Was the voice referring to him? No…now that he thought back, he couldn't remember anything that could have made him a bully. It was someone else! Someone else was caught here, in Silent Hill! He stood, the cage rattling and swinging thanks to his sudden movement.

"Woa-ah!" he gasped, bracing himself against the bars, waiting till the motion of the cage stopped. "Damnit…"

But what he was about to do next he knew would only cause more swinging. He took a deep breath and lifted his good leg off the floor of the cage, spotting a more worn looking part of the cage's door hinges and giving it a good, solid kick. The cage swung violently, Chance yelling in slight panic-only now realizing that maybe the door wasn't all that was beginning to rust.

The chains that held the cage up to the ceiling groaned in complaint of the sudden momentum, the extra weight of an actual living and breathing body taking it's toll. As rough as the monster was, he was careful with the equipment he had to work with. He was very fond of his cages as well, they were like glass shelves one would put trophies on for display.

Chance grunted, kicking the side of the cage again and again, causing the swinging to turn into jolted, strained jerks. He was running out of time.

_"Soon he will strike them where they stand and drag them into hell…"_

Chance kicked once more. "COME ON!"

With that last heave, the hinge gave way, the lock on the side and the top hinge being the only two things holding the door in place.

"Shit! Come on! Fuck!" Chance suddenly remembered as the cage swung a particular way, an odd weight in his pocket.

The flickblade John had given him when Kurtis had handed him his biker gloves! Stupid! He should have remembered that earlier! Not that…it would do much against Pyramid Head. But it was better than nothing. Chance dug around in his pocket, fishing the knife out and flicking it open. He jammed it into the remaining hinge, causing the door to fly open, hanging on the side with the lock.

"WAAH!" Chance half-gasped, half-yelped in surprise as he was thrown out of the cage.

Reflexively, he brought his arms up over his face in order to stop the collision between the floor and his forehead. The flickblade clanged against the concrete, sliding away from him, but thankfully not too far. It was good there was nothing else in the room for the knife to slide under.

Chance panted, groaning, pain shooting up his forearms and the throb in his shoulder reminding him cruelly to be more careful. His knees had taken an impact as well, legs shaking a little from the pain. He breathed hard, forcing himself up onto his feet, wavering a little. He picked up the flick-blade, tucking it back into his pocket.

The next line of the poem had been completed. He had to hurry. Chance looked around, spotting the door at the end of the hallway and wrenching it open without too much trouble. To the left and the right, the hallway was pretty much the same, leading down a festering path of darkness and flickering lights. Wherever he was now, he had no idea how to get out.

"AAAAAAAAAAHH!"

Chance yelped at the sudden yelling, coming down from the right of the hallway he was facing. Whoever it was, they were in trouble. And in a place, like this, they wouldn't have a chance alone. He'd made it alive so far on pure luck, he figured. Chance bolted for the hallway, the screaming continuing through the dark, guiding him much like a moth to the flames.

He came to the end of the hallway, which was rather long. But he thought back and realized the left of the hallway was much longer. A way to the exit maybe, then? It was the only thing he had going for him right now. At the end of the hallway, he saw a large double door, forged from heavy steel, the same shade of Chance's silvery blue eyes. Shapes and forms were forged into the plates of the door, human shapes, monstrously twisted and deformed. All crawling their way to the ceiling, where the door and the ceiling met, the forms seemed to halve and meld away. Chance swallowed at the sight.

At the very bottom, those who could not get away fast enough were cut into halves as well, a large blade, jutting out from one of the victim's spilled intestines. From the shape and size, and the way it looked battered and overused and yet still powerful, he could tell just who that blade belonged to.

Chance held into the handle of the door, resembling a broken angel's wing entwined with a bat-like demon's wing and pulled it open slowly. If the monster was inside, he didn't want to alert it.

Slowly, steadily, silently, he made his way into the room. It mirrored the one he had just come from, only much larger, and much messier in terms of the guts that were strewn everywhere. Bones here and there, clumps of hair. He felt a little vomit bubbling up from the back of his throat, but held back, not even daring to cover his mouth for fear of the same rust and gore that covered his gloves and fingers. The light in the room was much redder than in any other place he had been to so far, making the scene even more horrifying to gaze upon.

The cages, once again, were filled or empty. But that wasn't his concern. These were Pyramid Head's old trophies. His latest catch, lay slumped on the table at the centre of the room, also absent from the one he had been throw into.

"Kugh-…" Chance cringed as he slowly approached the corpse.

He had been too late. The screams had been silenced now. He remembered when Sally's corpse suddenly moved after her death-and approached cautiously, for fear of the same re-animation.

Chance rounded the table, only being able to recognize so much from the corpse, a breast,that's been eaten away, ribs sticking out in an unruly fashion-most likely being pulled open, re-arranged organs-heart missing, stay foot on the floor. Pyramid Head had done a number on this one. Far worse than what he had done to Sally's mother. Chance began to curse at the monster as he smelled that all-too-familiar smell of life's origins.

Instead of the usually white milky substance however, was a horrible black ooze of sorts, acidic in appearance, and stench overbearing. The ooze lay over between the legs and up into where the stomach and the uterus would have been. Chance's eyes widened when he saw five small rounded objects, about the size of large marbles, sitting in the goo in the exact position where her reproductive system was now melted away into the ooze. She had been kept alive long enough for the process to proceed at least that far.

He froze however, in his circling of the remains as he came upon the victim's face.

"No…" Chance breathed, mouth hanging open and head shaking in disbelief.

…Ormia!

It was just…just…so unfair…she hadn't even done anything. Had she? Sure everyone was a sinner. Nobody was perfect. But she had been kind in the brief time they had known each other.

"O-Ormia…!" Chance gasped, as much as he wanted to yell, hands trembling and reaching for the almost disembodied head.

She was staring a him. She was staring, tears still falling from her eyes and mouth still gaping, like a fish gasping for breath. As much as she was still alive, there was no saving her. Not when her body was like this. Fate's cruel hand had taken yet another person, and oh-so-kindly selected Chance as it's personal audience.

Unfortunately for the boy, this was not the last killing he would witness.

"Uaa…uaahh…" Ormia's head gasped fruitlessly as it was cradled in the boy's hands.

Chance could feel his nose stuff up and tears welling in his eyes. He still remembered her sweet, shy smile when she had greeted him at the cafe. Even in what he thought was a dream, she had been there to help John, Kurtis and the others. So why?

"I-It's…I can't…" he couldn't say it. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I should've come sooner…"

It wasn't going to be okay. He would just be another liar. Comforting words meant very little in hell. There was nothing he could say or even do at this point. And for the first time since this nightmare began, Chance felt powerless.

Ormia's lips pulled into a tired smile. "ugh…uaaim…I'm…the one…os…sorryieh…"

"Don't say that." he said, frowning and finally feeling the first of his tears drop from the brim in his eyes to the floor.

And then, she was gone.

* * *

Chance didn't know how long he'd stayed like that. Staring at the dead eyes of yet one more person. Only this time, he had grown to care for her only once it was too late. She had such a nice smile too…brown eyes like chocolates and the bleach blonde hair was alright. Something darker would have suited her more though…not that it mattered anymore…

Her body didn't move like Sally's did after she died. Half of him wish she'd come back, just because she would have been the only company he would have had. Stupid. She would've tried to kill him.

Chance's breath hitched as soon as he heard the metal of the door creaking open.

Pyramid Head pushed the heavy door open with ease, his size and strength aiding more than he needed. He had just come from the hallway further down. From the way he hauled his sword and a strange sack, which looked stitched up and worn, jerking it with quick tugs, he was quite upset.

By the time the executioner had reached the table at the centre of the room, Chance was gone, peering at the beast from-a rather uncomfortable hiding spot. It was the only one he had though…Pyramid Head's pile of corpses at the corner of the room.

The smell was terrible…if he was told at the beginning of everything that he would be hiding under a pile of dead bodies, he'd tell them to go to hell. There's no humor in that phrase now.

Through the hanging arms and limbs, he could make out Pyramid Head striding over to Ormia's remains. Chance swallowed. The monster did not come alone this time. Following him, swarming over his apron and even his blade were million upon millions of what looked to be large cockroaches. They skittered across everything, even each other, and the wielder of the Great Knife didn't seem to mind at all.

But if they were any acquaintance of Pyramid Head's, Chance wanted nothing to do with them.

Pyramid Head gaze upon his latest work, large hand reaching out to gather the spherical objects from the remains of her womb. He held them carefully in his powerful hand. Chance wondered why they were so important, that even the savage Pyramid Head would handle them with such caution.

Then, he had an idea.

Pyamid Head turned, facing the pile of bodies for a moment, making Chance freeze in place. From the tiny peephole the bodies created, he could see Pyramid Head's helmet facing right at him in plain view. He didn't even dare breathe.

After what seemed like ages, Pyramid Head a couple of mini heart-attacks the executioner looked elsewhere, at the other heaps of death around, seeming to consider something. Not that Chance would know what it was. He then turned and headed for the door. Whatever those little marble-things were, they were important.

They could just be Chance's insurance.

Pyramid Head made his way to the door, still hauling the dangerous giant blade he always had with him, the cockroaches following, crawling over everything in their path. Though they did not harm Pyramid Head in any manner, any flesh or limb that was caught under the wave of their crawl was soon stripped, leaving nothing but dry, clean bone in a matter of moments. Chance cringed at the thought of being caught in any swarm of them.

* * *

Pyramid Head grasped the small eggs in his hand gently, firm enough so that they didn't slide around against each other, given their smooth, hard surface, but not so hard they would crack under the pressure. It had been years since he was able to cultivate such marvelous results. Usually his victims died before they could even be impregnated long enough for the eggs to form. Unfortunately, this time, Ormia had died before the warmth of her body could incubate them. They would lie dormant until suitable warmth was found.

He could have to keep them well hidden from other monsters, ready to feast on anything they could scavenge. A human, or another monster's brood.

Despite everything, Pyramid Head had no actual desire to breed; it was instinctive, almost mechanic. The dark domain needed more than just one towering god of fear to punish those that did wrong. To put it simply: it was part of the job-description. In a more, civil-modern-world manner of course. None of which really mattered in such a place.

And the breeding process was anything but civil.

Countless have died just at the raping, although he didn't mind watching them scream and writhe, begging for their lives for him to stop. It was pure bliss when a punishment was dealt right. The more brutal, the more satisfying. And Pyramid Head wasn't in any rush. However, it would require a a living, breathing human for any of his brood to manifest. Something that was a scarce find in a town like this.

It was at that moment, Pyramid Head had an fleeting intelligent thought pass through his mind for the second time since he was freed from the limitations of reality.

* * *

Chance waited till the roaches were gone, before creeping out from his hiding place. The mess those creepers left behind wasn't pleasant either, it reeked of acidic digestion fluids, despite how clean the bones were. He made his way to the door carefully, hand dipping into his knife just in case. He thought carefully-escaping now would be a good idea, and those marble-things were a good back-up plan in case things went wrong and he might have to threaten his way out.

Uurgh…that shiver up his spine was unpleasant. Just the thought of facing off against that horrible thing…was frightening beyond comprehension. And he was thinking of trying to threaten him to.

Chance swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. It wasn't the best idea, but it was the only he had.

Slowly, quietly, just as he had entered the room, he left, glimpsing back at Ormia's remains, swallowing another bout of tears down his throat. But they came anyway as he paced through the hallway, keeping to the wall and trying the first door slowly. The first tear came as the knob turned with an inaudible click and he swung it open a little bit, peering inside. It was filled with cabinets, spears lined up against some of the broken wood like a weapons rack. The spears were long and held massive blades at the end of them. He shuddered to think of an even faster Pyramid Head if the monster decided to wield one of those instead.

He went like that, down the hall, slowly opening doors to make sure they were all empty. Just in case.

Chance gasped when he spotted that telltale helmet from behind, almost forgetting why he had been checking all the rooms. He blinked-the back of the helmet had strange bulged coming out of it. He never really paid attention until now, but the steel was fitted together so that it split down the middle, and those bulges were bolts, holding the whole thing in one place. There was no support. It completely rested on Pyramid Head's shoulders.

Wasn't that painful? Having a heavy school backpack full of textbooks and notes was an ache after a few minutes of walking with it's full weight in one shoulder, but the helmet looked far more cumbersome and heavy. If a sword was difficult enough to wield due to it's weight, something that thick and large would be far heavier. Didn't..didn't it hurt?

Chance was once again distracted, when Pyramid Head picked up some cloth from the messy, bloody table he was facing. He then turned towards the door, a knife tucked away into the the rim of his bloody smock. Chance flinched, quickly escaping into the room he had just checked before this. He looked peered through the door of said hiding spot as Pyramid Head strode by, still taking his knife and giant roaches with him. Chance breathed hard, waiting until he was at least five doors down before slipping out of the room and running down in the opposite direction.

The hallway was indeed long, like he had guessed, there were rooms with similar doors on either side. He ran, for what seemed like a long time. It looks like everything seemed like an endless maze in Silent Hill. Which, wasn't good for his morale or stamina, neither of which was really high at this moment. It wasn't long before he felt and heard his stomach churn in on itself, grumbling in complaint.

It really had been awhile since his last meal…damn…

Chance had a little thought of checking some of the old abandoned stores downtown. He'd been away from Silent Hill for a long time. The last memory he had of it before it was…this nightmare…was when he was around nine years old. But he knew enough to get to Sally's house before, so getting to the old convenience stores shouldn't be so hard. A little town like this shouldn't have changed much.

The thought of food alone made him grin a little in defiance of his situation. He was a guy. He liked eating.

Finally the end of the hallway came into view, a black door which didn't look like any of the other doors facing directly at him. Chance reached for the knob, looking back to thankfully find nothing but rows and rows of doors and nothing but darkness further down. No sound of scraping, no groaning of metal, and no creepers crawling about, chirping annoyingly. Luck was on his side…for now, he kept in mind.

* * *

Pyramid Head held the human skin in the same hand that he'd the handle of the Great Knife-it was the skin he had pulled off Sally's mother some days ago. It was now dried and good to use. He ventured back to his work station, the room in which Ormia's body lay.

Without even a second thought, he dashed her remains off the table and onto the floor, where the Creepers feasted on her succulent, fresh meat. He lay the skin on the table, letting the Great Knife drop to the ground without a single care. He then withdrew the smaller knife he had picked up from the other room earlier. Grasping first the skin that used to wrap around an arm, he sliced it off with the knife in one quick motion, continuing like this until all the limbs were removed. He then put them aside in a heap before taking what was left and folding it in on itself. It would make a good pouch for his eggs.

* * *

Chance blinked, staring down the grated hallway for the longest time. Were…those things there before? there were massive, tall looking…things under the metal grating. Not just…under…since they would have fallen down and plummeted into the dark depths below. They hung onto the grating from what looked like were supposed to be their arms. They had heads, which didn't look much more than a tube-shaped limb with an orifice at the top of it, much like their arms did.

Chance tightened his lips and swallowed, disgusted-but also curious. In all honesty, the openings looked like…female genitals. He shook his head and ventured forward, stopping at the first creature and looking down at it. Was it safe?

He then felt movement above him and looked up, stepping back just a bit as a pair of feet swung down and nearly grabbed at his head.

"What the fuck?" he cried out, staggering back further to gaze up towards the ceiling.

More creatures abounded; responding to his outcry, slithering close, but also in confusion, unable to locate him once he had quieted down. Bodies looking as if they were melted flesh sacks of their former selves, contained inside a metal-frame sort of box. The flesh convulsed, the only distinguishable feature being the very feet that nearly dagger Chance under one of them. They dangled, coming in massive quantities, and slithering across the ceiling slowly.

Either way, it was doubtful that any monster was safe to be around. But he couldn't go back now, he'd come so far. Chance breathed in deep, creeping as slowly as possible, so as not to alert any of the creatures. Which, wasn't working too far well, since the ones below, Mandarins-he decided to call them, due to the way their…what seemed to be like dresses looking somewhat chinese.

The ones hanging up on the ceiling seemed to position themselves where the 'Mandarins' weren't, just to make things difficult for the boy. It irritated him slightly. But this was how it was going to be, and he had to deal with it.

He made his way around a Mandarin, ducking as the Flesh Lips nearby swing it's feet, a tow touching the top of his head. He gasped, diving to the side and out of the way, stopping just before he would be above another Mandarin. He breathed deep, shaking his head.

There was no way he was going to make this before Pyramid Head was going to check this hallway at this pace…

It was time to toughen up and just go.

"C'mon…" Chance said, taking deep breaths and standing, not too tall, yet enough to be out of the swing of the Flesh Lips' feet.

Chance bolted for it. He dashed as fast and as agile as his already tired and aching legs could carry him. He skidded here, stopping there, ducking under and rolling to the side. It felt like he'd been doing it for hours by the time he saw the end of the grated hallway, having to go through several turns here and there. It just a mere few meters away when it happened.

A Mandarin finally managed to launch one of it's spiked tendrils up at Chance, who barely dodged in his rush to get to the exit.

"GAH-!" he grunted, feeling the spikes wrap around his already injured leg , digging into the open flesh wound from his fall through the cogs and hooks earlier.

Chance fell to his knees, grasping the grating in an attempt to comprehend the situation. He could see the other Mandarins moving in, attracted to the smell of blood. The Flesh Lips weren't far behind, honing in on his grunts and yelps as the tendril tightened around his leg.

"Aaa…grraaaaahh!" he pulled his knees up, grasping the tendril as best as he could while still avoiding all the spikes on it, but as hard as he pulled, it wouldn't come off.

Damn. If he'd only had a gun, he could shoot down the damned thing off the grating!

"Hffh-…!" Chance huffed, taking out his flick-blade and cutting away at the tendril, which thankfully slithered away and made a staggering run for the door, knocking one of the Flesh Lips' out of the way as he did so, managing to at least dodge the remaining tendrils that shot up from the Mandarins ahead.

As he staggered, slashing at whatever was in his way in a pain-filled panic, he heard it. The groaning. The deep bellow he dreaded up until now. Pyramid Head's cry.

With how noisy he was being, the beast must have heard his struggle.

* * *

Pyramid Head's lumbering form emerged from the end of the hallway in what seemed like just minutes. In the time it took Chance to stumble to the door, wrench it open and collapse from the pain in his leg from the unfortunate spike that had decided to detach itself from the tendril and stay embedded in his wound; Pyramid Head had made his appearance.

The monster was not pleased in the slightest. With another bellow, he wrenched the blade he held from the grating, slamming it through and piercing a the top of a Mandarin's head. In turn, it fell through to the darkness, never to be seen again. It wasn't going to end there. Pyramid Head stormed through the hallway, slashing away at the the Flesh Lips, which fled from the sound of the most terrifying monster in Silent Hill, many to no avail as they were cut down with ease. Mandarins fell left and right as he stomped over the lips in their arms that attached them to the metal. The knife was swung, sometimes to cut, sometimes simply to whack at the hanging creatures while he angrily splattered the lips of the ones below. The last Flesh Lips was probably the most unfortunate.

The punisher grabbed the metal box it was stuck in, tearing it clear off the ceiling. He pulled the box apart, causing some of the sticking flesh to come off along with it. The creature shrieked, and he grasped the flesh that was it's body, tearing it in half.

It wasn't every so often he could grasp at one so easily. They only swarmed like this when humans were present. And the extra skin would be good in case anything happened to his smock.

Chance was still at the end of the hallway, gasping for air, head spinning. He he stared at the spike that was still embedded in his open gash, half of him wanting to just close his eyes and not believe it was there. The pain was too great to ignore however, but removing it would only make it hurt worse. Then again, getting infected wasn't an option. He didn't know what other things those tendrils were used for, either. Fuck.

Chance looked back, sweat causing his clothes to stick to his skin, causing an even more uncomfortable feeling on top of all the pain. But he couldn't go on with something sticking into his thigh. He slumped there, fight draining out of him. Maybe he had been losing his fight long before this. The realization that no matter what he did, he would be caught yet again by that beast, that monster Pyramid Head. Fool…he had already accepted that as fact before he had tried to escape…

Chance sighed amongst the rapid pants he was already emitting, looking at his splinter-filled hands. He hadn't had the time to get them out, and they were started to hurt a lot worse. Maybe he should have taken the time to remove them. It was too late to think about that now…

…the creak of metal on metal was getting close.

Pyramid Head was once again, towering over Chance, who was balled up against the wall, shaking. Partially from the pain, partially from exhaustion, partially from hunger, mostly because he was scared.

"Hguu-!"

In one swift movement Pyramid Head had Chance balancing on his good leg.

"AARGH! S-stop! That hurts!" Chance cried, limping to the side, the grip on his arm pressing into the muscle painfully.

Pyramid Head paused, handling the boy in mid-air, pulling him up higher so he was dangling by the arm. The spike in Chance's leg finally overrunning with blood and dripping to the floor. The scent, drew the pyramid monster's attention to the wound. Something he hadn't noticed before.

"Put me down! M-my ar'm' gonna come the fuck off!" Chance yelled, kicking at him with his good leg.

In turn, Pyramid Head growled, the low resonation through the helmet the only warning before Chance was pinned to the floor, against the doorframe and the wall separating him from the hallway with the Mandarins and Flesh Lips.

"Gyah-!" Chance bit his lip, stifling the next few cries of pain.

Pyramid Head glowered down at the boy through the darkness of his mask, a darkness Chance could not see through thanks to the tears that couldn't help welling up in his eyes. Pyramid Head observed the pained expressions on the boy's face, the pain flashing in his metallic eyes, messed up almost white blonde hair sticking out here and there, sprinkled with blood and filth. After a moment, he reached down and grasped the spike, embedded in the small human's leg and yanked it out forcefully.

"N-no wai-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

* * *

Okay, so I tried to include some of the other monsters in this chapter, finally, after 6 chapters of just Ph, chance and other normal human beings. Ormia and Chance are my OC's and I kinda liked her, she might have yet a role further on, depending on what people think about this so far. I know this was supposed to be centered around PH and Chance's relationship and interaction, but I realize I haven't really had enough of just Pyramid Head's activities and the reasons for the things he does. So I took it slowly. Next time, it'll really be in depth more towards the interaction of just between the two.

Also, alas Chance's fight is all gone~... D:

Which...well, took several chapters to actually do. That's my tough little boy~ 3

Oh. and just a heads up. SMUT NEXT CHAPTER. YAOI~! FINALLY.


	8. Sickening Pleasure SMUT

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

Now that's been said, prepare yourself for a most disturbingly smutty and kinky Yaoi fuck scene. I'm not exaggerating, consider yourself warned. But if you did like the smut, feel free to share this with any of your Silent Hill Pyramid Head fanatics~…

So warn you though, it's nothing the faint of heart should see. And prepare tissues for nosebleeds or well…vomit. Whichever one. Then again, if you're still reading Silent Hill fanfics, I take it you're just as sick as me when it comes to this fandom~…kesesesese...

* * *

Pyramid Head threw the boy's weight onto the table, the fresh blood still making his landing stick to the boy's pants enough so that the collision between the metal and Chance's knees was terrible. Chance spluttered, at once falling onto his side and clutching his badly wounded leg. In all the movement however, Chance noticed that Pyramid Head had a small pouch, seemingly made from the same material his smock was, hanging around his waist. Those strange balls from before maybe?

Even he was right, he wouldn't be able to run. Now now. Not like this.

"You…" he spat. "I hate you…"

Pyramid Head wasted no time in grabbing the hem of the boy's pants, causing Chance's eyes to widen in confusion, he turned onto his back, hands going to the other's arm.

"What are you doing…?" he demanded, ignoring the pain of the splinters in his palms.

Pyramid Head did take note of the splints of wood and flexed his forearm muscle. While his skin was tough, Chance's was soft and vulnerable, the action causing the splints to dig into the other's palms deeper.

"Ah-!" Chance let go of the arm, allowing Pyramid Head to tear the zipper and button open without hindrance.

Chance didn't stop struggling through, kicking at the iron helmet that sat on the larger male's shoulders, cursing and unrelenting. The boy was stubborn and a fighter. He was hard to take down save for when Pyramid Head himself came after him. Even then, it took a lot of trouble to entrap him. He was exactly what the executioner needed.

..but he needed him as good as he could get. An injured host was vulnerable, fight or no fight.

Pyramid Head removed the boy's jeans, causing Chance to blush a little, despite his predicament. The denim was left to tangle around his ankles. Now Pyramid Head could see. The boy's knees were purple and bruised, and the bottoms of his shins were beginning to turn red from the dried blood from his pants. Other than that, the only injury Chance had was the wound from the hook, which had unfortunately also had a spike in it earlier.

But the punisher had pulled that out already. All that was left was to wait for the wound to close. It was a rather deep one too, thanks to the Mandarin. Chance still kicked, shutting his eyes to the sight of his own exposed legs, despite the fact he still had his boxers on. Either way, he'd never been pantsed before. And with the way the monster was pausing and being slow about it, he knew he was being stared at. He could feel it.

Pyramid Head's blood-stained glove glide over the boy's injured leg, moving up to the wound at the thigh. Chance gasped slightly, as a strong grip at his ankle yanked his leg still.

"Don't you dare!" Chance warned, but at this point there was no threat in it. Still…

Pyramid Head straightened himself, before bending down and picking up the scraps of skin that he had tossed on the floor from his previous activities. He twisted the skin until it was a firm.

Chance eyed the monster's activities, mind still at least sharp enough to know what he was going to use it for. He moved to get off the table but paused halfway…where would he run? Could he even manage such a task with a leg injury like this?

Reading the boy's intentions Pyramid Head quickly pushed him down, a strong hand on the boy's stomach. It moved quickly, from his abdomen to his thigh, fingers curling around the smaller muscle, the first two that were forced together in the glove's make pushing into the opening of the injury.

Chance's eyed widened as intense pain shot up through his leg. "Gh-HAAAAH!"

He lurched forward, sitting up and once again grasping at the other's arm.

"S-stop! Please!"

Pyramid Head removed his fingers quickly, the boy shaking and dropping onto his side. Above everything, his leg was the most abused part, he could ignore the pain in his shoulder as it pressed into the table from his own weight. Chance panted, feeling sick and trembling.

Now sure that he wasn't going to go anywhere anytime son, Pyramid Head resumed his previous activity, tightening the skin until it was a firm rope. He didn't need the boy's hands getting in the way again. Calmly, he grabbed both of the smaller male's tiny wrists and held them together, binding them.

"Wh-wha…?" Chance choked, panicked once more.

Was it his turn to die? N-no…Pyramid Head as far as he was concerned liked to have his prey fighting. So…what was he planning? This thing could think? He yelped as his arms were forced upwards with a tug.

The rope was long enough to attach it to a pike that was driven into the metal table above Chance's head. Chance gripped at the skin rope, tugging at it, wondering what the strange bind was made of. His eyes strayed as he looked at Pyramid Head, darting around the room before landing on a strange pile of material on the floor. He traced the outline with his eyes, they widened as he recognized the torn outline of a hand. Skin!

"NO FUCKIN WAY-!" Chance hollered, not knowing whether to freeze in place or to escape anymore.

What he had been tugging on was the very organ stretched all over his body, keeping him in once piece as far as he was concerned, and NOT bleeding out all over the floor. Though with this demon around, that could easily change.

Pyramid Head chuckled low, opening a very damaged, very worn looking metal box. He pulled out a string-which, despite everything else was thankfully clean, attached to it what looked like steel thread. He removed a glove, the boy's eyes widening when he saw that the monster's fingers were stitched together in sets of two, save for his thumb, which was why the glove was made so strangely.

What really frightened him though, was the stitching. It was like someone was screaming at him, what the needle and the steel thread the monster held were for. Chance breathed deep, fear striking him in a fuller force, he tried to struggle again. But as soon as Pyramid Head's fingers dipped dangerously near his wound again, threatening to plunge in once more, he stilled, gritting his teeth.

"I hate you…" he hissed, shutting his eyes and looking away.

If he couldn't see it. He could ignore it. How wrong he was.

Pyramid Head grasped his thigh all the tighter, very aware of a living creature's ability to flinch at every prick of pain it felt. But he loved that thrashing all the same. The first piercing through the skin made Chance's eyes snap open, a gritted scream wrenching from his throat.

The process was slow and painful, horribly so. Pyramid Head pushed the needle through his flesh, pulling the steel thread through just as slow as he pushed the needle through and scraping the skin even more painfully than before, tightening the opening closed to the point of excruciating pain. In the middle of everything, Chance could've sworn he saw stars and had passed out, reaching his limit.

* * *

Pyramid Head grunted, a little disappointed that his prey had fallen unconscious. Again, he didn't need him getting infected and dying before time was due. The poem still had five stanzas left, and now that the world was trying to stabilize on it's own, it was taking a longer time than before for the voice to renew it's power. He removed the boy's gloves-or more…tore them off carelessly, ripping the splinters that pierced through the cloth to his skin out of his hands as a consequence. The remaining splinters in the boy's fingers he would pick out.

Despite Chance's passing out, Pyramid Head was amused to say the least. The boy had lasted till three-fourths of the wound being stitched up. And he hadn't tried to be gentle in the least, not that the monster knew what anesthetic was in the slightest-but being brutal was part of his nature.

* * *

Chance awoke to find himself alone, on the metal table still, hands free, both from the rope and the splinters. He sat up slowly, flinching midway and yelping, lying back down when he realized the his leg had gone numb from all the harsh treatment. He was hungry, hurt, and worn. But more tired than anything. On top of that, he was disgusted…

…this was the very table that thing…that demon had done…_that_ to Ormia.

But what choice did he have in the matter? What choice did he ever have? He lay there on his side, exhausted in every fibre of his being. He didn't even care he was pantsless at this point. Blinking a little with the need to know, he peered down slightly, just enough to see a white sticky bandage over where his newly threaded stitches were. At least the monster's hands were clean, even if the gloves had not been. He lay back down and closed his eyes.

Who cares…he could wait till morning. The stitching was done and his hands were going to heal on their own now that was offending wood had been taken out. He tried to think of it in a positive way, to prevent himself from going mad, though he was starting not to care whether he did or not.

* * *

Morning did not really come. It did, but the light could not penetrate through the thick walls of the labyrinth, deep underground in the bowels of hell. Chance had just guessed it was about morning. Or at least tried to believe it was. It would give him some peace, to have a sense of time; even if it was false in the end. He sat up slowly, pain in his leg still evident. He wouldn't be moving for awhile.

Why had Pyramid Head done that though? Sure…it hurt. It hurt in the most sadistic nature. But the wound woulds could now begin to heal properly. Oh damn. His gloves were ruined for sure. Chance peered down onto the flooring, and sure enough he spotted his now torn gloves in shreds. He frowned, bending over on his bruised knees as gently as he possibly could and reached down with one hand, trying to grasp at the cloth. The tips of his fingers brushed at the material just slightly, before pressure on his behind made him jump in surprise, before crying out format he pain that shot up his thigh due to the sudden movement.

Pyramid Head's hands gripped the boy's ass through the boxers. The sooner he got this done, the better. Chance fearfully flopped onto his back, curling up against the roaming hands.

"H-hey! HEY!" he yelled. "Wha-No! I'm not a girl!"

And that was true. Pyramid Head hadn't seen a proper male human in what felt like aeons. Or maybe he had just forgotten how long it had been. No matter. The last male, James Sunderland wasn't as young and small and lithe. But he had been as equally as resilient and fun while he lasted. Before the spearing of course. He was curious. Chance was obviously a much more inexperienced specimen, noted from how he reacted to every sexual detail of the Mandarins so awkwardly.

Oh yes, Pyramid Head knew well. He was going to enjoy this, thoroughly.

He slid his hands slowly down the boy's ass cheeks, taking the boxers with them as he dragged them along down his thighs, despite the weak kicking. Chance's face flushed red as his ass was slowly revealed to the rapist monster. He knew what was going to happen, very faintly-once he'd gotten a hold of some gay porn magazine and out of the stupid curiosity of a teenager, had rifled through it briefly before tossing it away in disgust. But that one experience had taught him a lesson-he sure as hell wasn't gay. And since Silent Hill was pretty much Hell incarnate, he was definitely not gay.

But he knew how it worked. Maybe the monster didn't.

"Stop it! I'm not a girl okay?" he yelled again, grasping his boxers, trying to keep them from coming off.

Which, was no hindrance to Pyramid Head, who simply yanked and yanked and yanked, and if Chance would not give way, the boxers would. And they tore into shreds at the middle, to Chance's terror. He closed his legs against the imposing gaze of Pyramid Head, who gave a low chuckle, short and menacing.

"Khh…" Chance's face really was the shade of a fully ripened tomato, he tried his best to glare back.

What could he say now, though? Nothing. Pyramid Head knew. The punishing demon removed his gloves, letting them drop to the floor carelessly, revealing both finger-stitched hands this time. Chance pushed himself away, up to the end of the table; he didn't want to know. He didn't want to know what was going to happen next in the slightest. He would run. Yes. He would run across the filth and gore-ridden floor to the door…

…his leg would not allow it. He knew that. But he had to try.

Pyramid Head struck the white bandage at his thigh, ripping a yell from the boy's lips and putting a stop to the stupid idea. Chance panted, shaking. He was scared. So scared. This was the first time ever, had he felt such fear after Silent Hill had risen up from the bloody bottom of the lake known as imagination.

He could not move because of it.

Pyramid Head, though hoping for more fight, figured it was more convenient on his part now that the child was paralyzed with fear. He allowed his hands to do as they pleased, now free from the confines of those wretched gloves that hid his tortured fingers. They roamed freely, up the shaking boy's thighs, soft and pleasant to touch. But they were also toned and strong, probably from all the running he had done, plus the testosterone of puberty. Not too toned for Pyramid Head's taste though. The flesh still young and molding. He felt through every inch, every bump of muscle, every squish of remaining, scarce fat, squeezing the bandage in warning, Chance flinched in response, understanding and hating it.

Chance could feel disgust bubbling up from his throat. But there was nothing to regurgitate. He hadn't eaten in the longest time. To make matters worse, amidst the monster's feeling of his legs, his stomach groaned and grumbled in protest of being emptied for so long. Pyramid Head paused his exploration and leaned closer, tip of the helmet barely grazing the boy's forehead in his curled up position. He choked, breathing in the smell of rust and dried blood that seemed to emanate from inside the helmet itself. Then he froze, realizing he was under it.

Half of him didn't want to know. But part of him wanted to see. No…but if the face was more frightening than he could conjure up in his own imaginations, he could be haunted by it forever.

"Hh-?" he choked, when he felt a stray, large hand push between his defensive arms, up his shirt, and press into his growling stomach, which felt worse with the extra pressure added. "Gah-…d-don't…!"

Pyramid Head pressed deeper, feeling the vibrations of the stomach's churning in on itself, judging the stage of hunger in which it was in. It was beginning to digest itself. Well, considering what he was going to do next, he'd need the boy's hunger to be at peak. Let it growl. In the mean time, he tore the shirt open with brute force. Chance yelled angrily for him to stop, which he did not do.

The fiend continued to loom over Chance, the boy twitching with every breath he could feel coming from the helmet that hovered above him. He didn't dare look.

Those large hands roamed up and over his nipples, eliciting a soft whimper from Chance, who swallowed in surprise that he could even produce such a pathetic sound. Having heard it though, Pyramid Head did not stop, continuing to rub his large hand that covered almost the entire expanse of the smaller male's chest, bumping into and sliding over the nubs repeatedly, the body they belonged to twitching this way and that, Chance shaking his head.

"S-sto…mnh-…" he grounded out between desperate pants. "S-stop…!"

Pyramid Head fed on the fearful moans the boy was was uttering, furthering his exploration, throwing off any resistance the boy put up by simply continuing, his natural strength providing an unfair leverage. The stitching on his hands added a strange rough grazing against the soft skin, skin that only a human possessed. Skin, no monster no matter how feminine would ever match up. And Pyramid Head coveted it; he tore off as much skin as he could from each of his victims-tuning it into his robes, his smock, his pouches, anything he could manage. But skin on a living, breathing human was the best-when it was still warm with the blood that kept it pulsating with life.

Life that Pyramid Head loved to drain. That he now needed in order to allow the town's coming to existence to progress. The boy was probably…the most unlucky human in the world at this moment. For now, fate had won out-and Chance was going to pay dearly for losing.

Without any further delay, Pyramid Head once again used the skin-crafted rope to bind Chance's hands to the head of the metal table, only this time, the boy was faced down on his knees.

"Wha-! No!" Chance cried, yanking at the cursed rope again, his most private places, exposed for Pyramid Head to gaze at with ease. "L-let go! M-my leg…I can't stay like this…!"

And indeed he couldn't. As Pyramid Head's hands roamed back up to his succulent, perky ass cheeks, Chance's leg finally gave way, and he couldn't keep tugging on the rope any longer. Exhausted and sore-though not as sore as he was going to be very soon, he needed to relax his legs to catch his breath.

This left the demon free to do as he pleased-though enjoying the struggle of a perfectly able victim; the feeling of having this rebellious, stubborn boy actually submit was something he could very easily get drunk on. He loved it. The fact that he acknowledged the power the monster had over him; it was intoxicating, more intoxicating than the chase he had thoroughly enjoyed. He liked a human that could make him lose his temper. It gave him a pleasant distraction every once in awhile.

"Hh…ha…damn.." Chance squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the tears of defeat threaten to break through his lids either way. "Damn…damn…damn…! Stupid…su-kghu?"

Chance looked back as best as he could, trying to peer over his own shoulder at the strange feeling of something slick prod at his asshole. What the fuck? What the flying fuck?

"Don't!" Chance pleaded, the fight gone from his voice. "Please don't…!"

A long, purpley, slick…appendage was what Chance could best identify it as had slithered out from the helmet and was now prodding between his ass cheeks.

"The FUCK?" he gasped. "Take it away! Stop! Stop it! Donn-hhu..!"

He choked again, feeling the slick thing push past his tightened ring of muscle, tickling his insides, stretching them and pushing in easily, slick and steady. Chance's legs stiffened, but he knew that drawing them closed at this point would only hurt himself. He let the tears fall now, humiliated and scared, scared, scared.

"H-hah…aa…" Chance whimpered through the tears, feeling the slick thing inside him push deeper and deeper, only know wondering just how deep something like that could go into his body. "No…mo…t-too…"

It was almost at his lower stomach, he could feel it! There was no way it was really going to go through with it, right? Chance wriggled away from it as best as he could, whimpering and choking. With a sigh, he felt the appendage sliding out of him, relieved for a millisecond, before it shoved back in again.

"Nh-haah!" he gasped, feeling it push in deeper than before, the wetness it was covered in beginning to saturate his insides as it moved back and forth.

Chance's foggy mind finally came to the conclusion that the thing inside him, twisting and pulling, pushing and churning was the creature's wretched tongue. He grit his teeth, truly, utterly disgusted at the thought of it messing up his insides. The tongue writhed and flicked, colliding against something inside Chance that made his body convulse and his back arch. A tinge of pleasure began to grow within the pain.

He didn't want it to be there. He didn't want it to feel good. Chance clenched himself around the invading tongue, trying desperately to push it out. The process of doing so was still disgusting.

"T-take it away! Take it out!" He begged, legs trembling from more than just tire and pain; the accompanying pleasure was foreign and frightening.

Pyramid Head twisted his tongue one last time, checking the lubrication and feeling out the softest part of the boy's insides before doing as he was begged and removing his tongue. He drew it back it into his mouth, tasting and swallowing at the natural fluids of the boy's intestines. Delicious. Disgusting. The way he liked it.

Chance panted, entire body trembling and mind reeling. He'd never before experienced such strange pain and pleasure. It was confusing; and he would give anything to get away from it, to forget. But his semi-hardened erection, hanging in all it's shameless glory would not let him. He jolted when something hard and sleek pressed into him, popping into past his sphincter and effectively being engulfed. It was spherical.

"What…?" Chance looked back with fright, to see Pyramid Head coining the remaining balls in his hands-they had grown in size since he last remembered seeing them, now looking more like golf balls.

So…that thing inside him was…

"No!" It seemed like it was all he could ever say, and yet it wasn't enough, the monster wouldn't bother listening. "Please, no! I don't want those things…"

He couldn't bear to say it. But he didn't want anything to do with what Pyramid Head was planning. Those things…whatever they were…they had been in Ormia-had they contributed to her death? What were they? Why was he putting them…i-in…in there…

Push as he might, the lubrication from the monster's thick, slime-like saliva prevented the egg from popping out anytime soon.

"Guh-!" Chance gasped, spittle building up in his mouth and tongue hanging out as he felt the round object rub against the same spot that had caused his own penis to throb to life.

Pyramid Head forced two of his stitched fingers, having rather no other option than to put two in at once anyway, pushing the egg deeper inside, turning it and rubbing it against the boy's prostate teasingly, cruelly. Chance's body convulsed again from the rubbing and he yelped when Pyramid Head pushed the egg further into his prostate to the point where it was painful.

"Ha..ash…gah…!" It was in. It was being pushed in farther than he could ever hope for it's removal.

Pyramid Head resorted to using his elongated tongue once more, pushing the egg into the soft, wet, velvety folds of the boy's most private places. Places not even Chance himself had ever explored. Or was too shy to. Too naive to. Too young to. Chance felt all his strength leave him, focusing merely on heaving gasps for air as he felt the sphere inside him twitch of it's own accord, rocking back and forth without the fell of the tongue that was also violating him. He cringed.

It was alive.

It was alive, inside him, responding to the warmth of his body.

"P-please…" he breathed, tears running free now without any effort on his part, own saliva dripping down the side of his chin which was pressed into the metal table.

Pyramid Head groaned, thrusting his tongue in and out a few times, Chance moaning carelessly. Fuck everything. The monster could hear him for all he cared now. There was no point in fighting, tired, sore, abused and destroyed. He sobbed quietly, not even whimpering anymore.

The executioner relished in his victory, squeezing yet another egg into the boy's reddened hole, the slimy saliva that eased it along oozing down the back of his thighs. Chance's body twitched and he groaned, wrists tugging at the human rope again. His tears stained the metal, making some of the freshly dried blood run wet again, sticking to his cheek.

This time, Pyramid Head pushed the egg partway in with his fingers, before removing them again and proceeding with another egg. The two roughly clicked against each other inside him, and Chance couldn't help but whimper, staring out blankly at the dim room. Pyramid Head pushed the egg in with his fingers one more time, until it was just about the same distance as the one before had been, before adding the last one. He thrust his fingers in and out, stretching the ring of muscle.

"Mngh-…haa…aa…nnh…" Chance shuddered at the feeling, hard-on raging by now.

It was such a strange feeling. So full and violated, and all too scary. He didn't want any of this, and yet…his body…

"H-haa…nnha…" Chance reflexively pressed himself into the invading fingers, willing them to brush past that little bundle of nerves inside him, where the eggs were now rubbing and clacking together against it in a maddening sensation.

He couldn't take anymore. He'd never been like this. His manhood throbbing against the strange pleasure he was being forced to enjoy. At the same time, he was starting not to care about where it came from and or why, just that it felt…so…so good…

It wasn't enough.

Chance whined, closing his legs together, making his opening tighter, just trying to get more of the right friction. Pyramid Head paused, observing the strange reaction to his ministrations. Chance's tear-blurred eyes peered up at him pleadingly, hips now out of his control as he slide his ass down on the large, stitched together fingers, feeling them brush against the eggs inside him slightly.

A wanton human. He'd seen them before, with each other. Growing hot against teach other's touches and uncontrollably writhing against each other. A sight Pyramid Head didn't quite understand. A mutual ritual he didn't need.

Chance felt his cock twitch, untouched and wanting, wanting something he himself also, didn't quite understand. "H-hurts…"

Everything did. But this was the worst pain. The pain of sexual must.

A low laugh. Chance had earned it. Pyramid Head laughed loud and low, hah's and gasps for air almost audible between the echoes the metal helmet made. The pyramid Raised, as if the beast had thrown it's head back and the sound of laughter increased before dying down, the helmet flipping back into place along with it. Chance shut his eyes and looked away, utterly ashamed of himself. From here, he was going to just block everything out, ignore it..make it go away...

That was, until he felt something much, much larger than two fingers push into him, forcing the eggs inside him to slide in deeper, hitting each other and his walls roughly, painfully. But not as painful as the actual penetration itself.

Chance's eyes flew open, and he screamed.

"Haa! Gah! AAAH!" he panted, trying to desperately to recover and wrap his mind around what the hell just happened.

Pyramid Head prodded the boy's inner ass with the rounded tip of his cock, testing, making sure it wasn't going to tear him open too far. He needed him alive and in one piece. Slowly, painfully, he pushed deeper and deeper in, forcing the eggs further and further in until they met the one that was already gestating inside of him, the length of his iron cock pushing all four of them in too far for Chance to believe.

"No-oh! Ack-! GA-hhhngh…!" Chance tried to arch away from the pain, nails digging into the rope, trying to tear it, trying to get away. "Y-You ca-CANT! A-aau…"

He felt his stomach bulge at the intrusion, body trying to accommodate the cock being shoved up his ass, along with the rounded eggs already inside him, despite the fact it was definitely not designed for this. What did Pyramid Head care that it wasn't. He would make it work. Even, if he had to force it, as he forced everything.

"AAh-! NGH-!" Chance grunted, feeling the skin-rope at the very flesh of his fingers, nails having dug in roughly, tearing at the material, but not enough to free him.

Finally, he felt rough, clammy, scarred skin press into the back of his thighs and ass cheeks, muscles as firm as rock, force unrelenting. Pyramid Head ground his hips into the boy's softer flesh, cheeks providing a strange but pleasant cushioning the monster had now newly discovered. He sheathed himself inside the smaller human completely.

Chance was gasping, throat sore and all too dry, raspy with screaming, body aching everywhere-arms straining against his binds, wrists burning from the friction against the rope, thigh throbbing in protest of much needed rest to recover from the hook, the spike's impalement and the stitches, knees bruised from being kneeled on one too many times…but worst of all, the burning at the pit of his stomach, the great tearing he could feel happening slowly from his behind all the way up his spin to the pit of his still starving stomach. Everything hurt.

He wanted it to end, and end now.

"P-please…"

Please. No. No more. Stop. It's like someone had cruelly ripped the rest of his vocabulary in the slow minutes he was being tortured. If it was going to be like this, he'd rather die. He'd rather had gotten strangled by the Flesh Lips, torn to shreds by the Mandarins, hell, even split in half by the Great Knife. But not this.

"HAH-!" Chance was brutally yanked out of his thoughts as the cock inside him pulled out to just the head, before slamming back inside, feeling the eggs inside him stirring to life at the warmth, turning and sliding against each other. "N-AH! AAH!"

Pyramid Head repeated the motion, careful not to split the boy's body in half, which was something his dick was very good at, due to it's size. This time, he gave Chance's body the opportunity to adjust, as much as the boy resented him for it. A few moments of silent stillness before Pyramid Head pulled out, thrusting back in again, the boy grunting in response. And that's how it went for awhile. Pyramid Head clambered onto the metal table, strong, powerful thighs, three times larger than Chance's settling on either side of the boy's raised hips, the helmet's bottom coming into view just above Chance's line of sight. The new position allowed the cock to drive deeper, harder into him. He pulled out, before thrusting back in, waiting a few moments, and then repeating the action, testing the waters. Always careful when he needed to be.

Chance's mind was slowly slipping, down, down into the gore-infested gutters of Silent Hill. With every slow thrust, every stretch of his insides, the cock pressed against and rubbed into his prostate, making his own throbbing need twitch. He panted, eyes shaking with the slipping concentration of trying to hold onto something remotely human, his sanity, his dignity, his thoughts. But that was failing miserably.

Finally, Pyramid Head decided the boy had been prepped enough and pulled all the way out suddenly, a sharp cry uttering from his cute little new fuck. Chance's own thighs had parted wide, trying to make it easier on himself to accept the thing sliding up his now tender body. It thrust back in, hard, fast, hips slapping against soft butt cheeks.

"AH-! Ha-hn…" Chance arched into the building pleasure, the sudden roughness adding fuel to the growing fire inside of him. "Ha-! HA-! AH! AH!"

Pyramid Head began thrusting faster now, pulsating cock twitching, rubbing against all the tight walls it was engulfed in, walls that tightened every time he pulled out, forced open every time he pushed back in. Miraculously, the boy didn't tear, which was a new sensation to the monster having so much of the blood and guts sliding against his large manhood. The tight walls milked him as he thrust in and out, in and out, picking up the pace.

Chance gasped, mouth open and turning dry from his breathing, he lurched forward, stomach bulging just a bit, every time the demon had filled him up past his limits. But the sweet friction against his prostate and the very throbbing of something that large inside of him was enough for him to ignore all of that. He panted, thighs trembling and body shaking with each thrust, willing him to go faster, harder, wanting more. He could never say it though.

The moans and yelps that spilled from his lips that accompanied the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the squishing of wet insides was more than enough for Pyramid Head to know. And faster he went.

"Aau-…I…h-hot…hot…" Chance breathed, just as breathless as when he was being stitched up, now for a completely different reason, the pace they were going at turning dizzying. "Ha..ash…HAA…P-PLEASE…!"

The boy needn't even say it, Pyramid Head caught up in his own pleasure as well, the feel of tight walls squeezing him, velvety insides straining to allow him back inside overtime he bucked back in. He hadn't had a fuck this good in as long as he could remember. Not that the daily routine of torture and punishment was anything worth remembering up until now. He fucked the boy under him faster, like a savage beast, forgetting the caution he had managed to muster in the beginning. Chance was so close…the pleasure was overwhelming and he forgot the pain that had come before it. He pushed back into the larger hips.

_Smack, smack, smack, smack._

"AAh…GHA…AH..AH…AH…!" The rope made a few crackling, snapping noises with the force that Chance was pulling at it with, his body straining to buck back onto his newfound pleasure.

So close. So close! He could taste the bile up his throat, his insides probably being messed up and churned by the abuse they were receiving. But he did not care. He bucked back, Pyramid Head responding by grabbing the boy's hips and forcing them down with every thrust. The pace had grown messy, uncoordinated, filled with nothing but need.

"AH-! I…I…!" He what? He couldn't remember. It felt so good.

Pyramid Head flicked his long tongue out, sliding it down the boy's jaw, slurping and tasting. Chance watched it with lust-glazed eyes as it traveled further, siding over his neck, his chest and nipples, even the stomach at stretched out and in. He closed his eyes to the feeling, something he shouldn't have felt-it was sickeningly wonderful.

It flicked against the head of his weeping cock.

"HH-!" Chance's eyes were wider than ever, expression nothing but shock as he felt himself peak.

Feeling the muscles that clamped around him grow tighter and tighter, Pyramid Head used this as an opportunity to push himself even further in, balls slapping against Chance's, pressing and digging into the boy's ass farther than the boy thought possible, deeper. He felt the rounded objects inside him suddenly dig into the flesh inside with the force, a strange pop and suddenly bliss.

"AAAAAAAAHHHN!"

He arched, the rope finally snapping, bound hands pushing against the metal table they both lay upon, his shoulders and the back of his head pressing into a hardened chest above him as he did so. His eyes were shut in tear-filled pleasure, lips parted and cut in some places due to his own biting. All in full view of his abuser. Chance soiled theta able with his seed, ropes of forced pleasure spraying from between his legs, streaming down his thighs alongside the saliva that Pyramid Head had used to lubricate him.

The last tight twist of the sphincter and that face that suddenly captivated Pyramid Head like nothing he had known before sent the monster over the edge along with him. Chance shuddered, nails now driving into the rust and gore of the cool metal below him as the felt his insides get sprayed by a scalding heat. Pyramid Head groaned, shuddering and pulling out as he climaxed, blackened, filthy, copper-smelling semen leaking out between the boy's legs to mix with his own, stinging the skin it came into contact with.

He collapsed on his side, shuddering against the metal and the mixed semen and blood. Pyramid Head tucked himself away into the human skin smock once more, gazing down at his latest work. Something alive for once. Something he hadn't managed all these long aeons.

Chance's eyes were glazed over, body worn and exhausted, he couldn't even muster up any inkling of thought. He just stared, stared into the expanse of darkness that hung in the room. The cages that hung the massacred trophies Pyramid Head boasted about in their display. The roaches that skittered shyly in and out of view, not daring to interrupt the demon's activities, despite their hunger for the boy's fresh meat. He didn't think. Nothing registered, and Pyramid Head felt a jolt of worry that his latest amusement might have died.

The tongue that had caressed the human's body now wrapped around it, curling and flicking, before withdrawing to slide against the boy's cheek. He liked his latest muse. Quite a lot. It was the most fun he'd had in a very, very, long time.

When Chance's unfocused eyes turned to gaze at the tongue that slathered slime against his cheek, Pyramid Head withdrew, relieved he wasn't dead. Amidst everything, his backside was beginning to burn with more than just the hot semen, ache crawling up his spine like a million of those horrible man-eating roaches. Chance shut his eyes, memorizing the ache in his wrists, his thigh, his knees, his ass and the cuts on his lips.

As he drifted off into sleep, he could feel the turning and crawling of what he now new were living eggs inside the pit of his stomach, in a place he wasn't quite sure of.

* * *

Soooo…watcha think? I might take a little break from this since well, my mom caught me typing all day and said it wasn't good for my health. Maybe I should continue my replay of Kingdom Hearts 2. Hmmmh…~

And what would you like to see happen next? Reviews are most welcome


	9. I'm Sorry

Hey guys. Sorry about this. I know a lot of you are looking for an update to my stories, and it's been a looooong time since I've given you any.

Please, let me just ask for…a little more time…

My grandmother just passed away. Just last night. So…I'm sorry but…I don't know if…I can write in this state. I can barely see the keyboard while I'm typing, and may have to even fix this up before I post it.

I'm terribly sorry for not updating. I will soon. I promise.

JapFan0


	10. Meals and Hatchlings

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

Phew. I hope you all liked the smut in the last chapter. Looks like our little blonde is in deeper trouble than before, if you know what I mean ;P Ehh..not really much to say, just hope that this stays up here now that last bit has been written. On to the fic~!

* * *

Pyramid Head turned the unconscious boy onto his back, pressing a hand to his stomach one more time, feeling the movement of the now very active eggs, gestating inside. The demon watched each rise of the human's chest, each breath that drew life from the world of death around him. As tiny as the human was, he was a suitable host.

The breathing was shallow and deathly, however, and Pyramid Head remembered-if not miraculously so-that the boy had yet to eat. Hearing the Creepers skitter here and there, patiently waiting for the punisher to abandon the host of his brood, he picked the boy up, being careful with his abdomen in particular, choosing to leave the Great Knife behind for now, it's weight would make it impossible for him to manage moving along. At least his presence alone was enough to deter the Creepers from trying to take a bite out of his muse.

He moved along the hallway at an easy, but swift pace, the weight of the knife now no longer an issue. Chance didn't even stir, too far gone into his dreams to care about where he was. In the arms of his rapist.

As they walked, Pyramid Head gazed down at his gateway, his prey, his prize, and now his host. This child was sworn to him, as death to the knife. The lies of his ancestors had now come back to haunt him, and as a consequence, he was the executioner's to play with until he got bored. It'd been a long time since fate had granted Pyramid Head a toy. And like an immature, instinctive animal cub, he was rather pleased, excited, even. He stopped in front of one of the hallway rooms, opening one of the side-doors and entering.

The room was small, an old, worn, half-melted television sitting in one corner, still using the antennae from when they were first invented, though no plug suggested it was even powered. On the opposite side was a just-as-worn-looking bed, without so much as covering or pillow. But it would have to do. He placed the boy down on the exposed mattress, watching as his lower gut writhed with life, bumps moving along beneath the surface of skin. He could feel the excitement the eggs were emanating from finally having something warm to wrap around them. Pyramid Head growled, watching as he straightened himself.

The eggs would gestate for awhile longer before hatching and killing each other off, devouring each other until there was only one left. Since the process was a sort of free-for-all, instead of an actual selection, it was likely none of them would even survive. But that was alright. Pyramid Head was immortal. No rush.

And now that the eggs had made room for themselves inside the boy's body, impregnating him wouldn't be impossible the next time. Although it would take longer. Pyramid Head turned, but instead of leaving he sat down against the wall. Without his presence, the Creepers and Alessa-knows-what-else could come in anytime, sniffing at the smell of fresh, live young.

* * *

"Is he gonna be alright?"

"He didn't take too hard a hit from the crash, but…it's clear that…well…"

"Yes, but is he gonna be alright!"

"He's fine. We've performed several X-rays to see if there's anything broken just in case."

"Doc…!"

The voices were everywhere. Talking about him. Some were close, some were far. But he could hear them all. They were talking about him; and he could recognize at least two: Kurtis' and John's. Chance breathed hard, unable to see, to move, to feel anything. Why? What was happening! Why couldn't he see! Where was he!

A small beeping suddenly became louder and louder, increasing in speed.

"His heart-rate is rising!"

"Quick, get the ibuprophine!"

"Kid…!"

"Chance!"

"Kid, fucking hang in there!"

* * *

Chance jolted awake, gasping in cold sweat, finding himself staring at a dark, filthy ceiling. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things, before turning his head to see where he was. A mattress, old and rough to the touch, but it was better than being left on that metal table's cold surface. He could feel the loose string here and there prickling his back in places.

The memories from before he lost consciousness came trickling back slowly, before flooding back full force. Chance suddenly wished he'd been left there to grow cold and die. Slowly, he sat up, yelping-his fears were confirmed by a great stinging pain in his backside, straight up his spine and gut...his gut! Now that he had remembered…yes…he could feel them, crawling around inside and squirming.

He lay back down, panting and straining so as not to injure himself further. No…it couldn't…no fucking way…

A trembling hand, filled with hate shot up to his gut, the palm and fingers feeling the slight but very present wriggling just below his flesh.

"No…God-damnit...no fucking..."

No! NO! NO! NO! NO!

Just as his overwhelming emotion shot to the hand that was at his gut; making it want to squeeze, to dig and to punch, to kill anything and everything that was moving around inside of him, a much larger, stitched hand gripped painfully at his wrist.

"Gh-!" Chance flinched, feeling the joint move a little, a tell-tale crack resounding as it was yanked high up. "AAH!"

Pyramid Head did not let go of the hand; since he especially didn't need his host murdering his brood before they were due. Chance glared for a second before sudden tire overtook him and he choked, slumping forward and panting hard.

Right. He still. Hadn't. Fucking. Eaten.

Pyramid Head realized this and at once roughly hoisted the boy over his shoulder, careful not to squeeze too hard, lest he be the one to crush his offspring.

"Hey!" Chance managed a hoarse yell, surprised at how dry it sounded.

Then again, he hadn't had anything to drink either.

The monster turned, taking a spare spear off the wall before venturing out of the room. Chance struggled, good hand managing to try and dig his nails into the monster's impenetrable flesh. He kicked as best as he could in his weakened state, but the pain he felt was hard to overcome. In the end, he gave in, going limp and quieting down, watching the grating under the monster's smock pass, with every step. Then he remembered yet another, just as important detail.

"Hey!" Chance yelled. "No fucking way! I'm fucking pants-less! I'm not going anywhere!"

But it seemed that Pyramid Head's skull was thicker than his helmet; and he completely ignored the boy's ranting, venturing forth until he reached the end of the hallway.

"Huh?" Chance blinked. "Hey. Why'd you stop walki-WUAGH!"

Pyramid Head swung the boy, carrying him in his arms so he could put a giant hand over his eyes. If Chance were ever to try and escape, Pyramid Head wouldn't want to be the one to show him the proper way out of the deepest part of the labyrinth.

"GAH!" Chance kicked with his good leg. "Put me the FUCK down! If you're not gonna fucking hurt me, leave me the fuck alone!"

Pyramid Head trudged on, ignoring the boy's constant complaining and flailing. Chance grew tired after a little longer of hearing nothing but footsteps and doors passing. After the beast walked much, much, further, he felt a slight warmth and out of curiosity, shuffled. Pyramid Head's grip loosened, and finally, the boy was allowed to see. They were outside, around the middle of town, far away from the school. Whatever path the monster had taken from the labyrinth, it allowed him different locations according to his preference.

Or maybe it was just fate's hand dipping in to the beast's aid; prolonging the boy's torture.

Chance's stomach was acting up again. It growled and growled with a newfound fury. Chance flinched, curling up, hands over his abdomen as the light of the ashen sky made him realize just how long had passed since he was deep underground. The journey had to have at least taken an hour.

"Ghh…ugh…" he choked, not wanting the monster to hear just how much pain he was in.

Humiliation. Frustration. Anger. Shame. Regret. Despair. it was as if his body only knew how to feel those things this whole time. But…

…but he needed to keep fighting. He needed to…

Chance's stomach gave a loud growl.

...he _really_ needed to _eat_ something.

Pyramid Head put the boy down surprisingly in a gentle manner-to Chance anyway, it was a strange action. He then reminded himself of those…terrible things in his abdomen and shuddered, looking at the ground that was covered in snow-like ash, filled with embarrassment. The beast pushed the boy forward anxiously, the human's hunger well in mind.

"What?" Chance snapped, face flaring up in a mighty shade of red as he dared a glare up at the monster that would no longer-at least it seemed…

…at least he _hoped_, wouldn't hurt him anymore.

Pyramid Head's helmet turned, the low sound of metal groaning as it did, the end of the pyramid pointing, like a commanding arrow, towards an abandoned store. Chance grunted and turned his attentions to the same store.

It was old, as anything else in this godforsaken, world-forgotten place. The ash that landed on the small retractable cloth roof had piled up so much it had weight in, in certain places, causing the fabric to tear. There were mounds, where the ash had broken through and fallen to the ground in heaps. The store read 'Dan's Convenience Store' in white paint on the glass-a classic style that was never used in shops nowadays. Chance blinked, tired mind and aching, starving body forgetting almost everything as he approached the doorway-which, of course, as already broken in by whatever the fuck could have done such a thing.

Probably even the punisher slowly following behind him.

Lack of sleep makes one cranky. Hunger makes one prone to anger. Desperation makes the fingers weak against the slippery substance called sanity. A combination of these things was much worse…

Chance frowned at the sound of being followed by that…that horrible…_THING_. He was about to turn and yell at the other not to be followed when one of the mounds of ash caught his foot, and he came sweeping down towards the doorframe with a yelp, skull ready to crack open against the edge. Once again, a strong hand shot out and cupped the boy at his stomach, the pressure from it's nighty grip making the odd squirming in his stomach, just under his skin more obvious.

"Grkh-!" Chance choked with disgust, suddenly no longer too eager to eat that particular moment.

That's what that thing wanted, he figured. He wanted to keep the boy alive long enough to have those little monsters come out. Hell, for all Chance knew…they were going to tear through his flesh like those ass-ugly aliens.

Pyramid Head's cry was pitched and angry. The boy was far too clumsy at being careful! The larger male lifted the boy off the ground once more, stepping into the shop and promptly venturing over to the counter to drop his already over-abused behind, non-too-gently on it. Chance grunted, feeling his tailbone crack a little, probably from being strained since…

No, he didn't want to think about. Instead he angrily glared up at his captor, refusing to move. Pyramid Head didn't seem to move either, like he was staring back at the challenge. They stayed like that for a little while, before Chance finally looked away, still frowning, gritting his teeth. He couldn't run, not in this state. He couldn't hide, not with the monster right there. He couldn't escape, not if he was in Silent Hill. There was no such thing. He was trapped, like a motherfucking rat. And he hated it. He hated this feeling.

Satisfied with the boy's submission, Pyramid Head turned and slowly, leaving the store, which he found quite unamusing in the million times he had been anywhere in this cold, dark, lonely hell. However he was not careless, standing guard at the door, the only way in or out, spear at his side.

Chance sat there, biting his lip. He was so. Fucking. Hungry. But if he ate…that would be giving that damned raping metal-head what it wanted. But no. He wasn't going to just lay down and die like a tired dog. He was going to make it out of here. He was going to fucking murder those-what he now understood all too well, were eggs inside of him, and he was going to fucking get out of this nightmare and back to where he-…

* * *

"Is he alright now?"

"He should be just fine but…we still don't know what caused such a reaction. Are you sure he isn't allergic to any medication?"

"Hell, fuck if we know! Just fucking fix him!"

"Doctor!"

"Yes, nurse?"

"Sir…it's…your daughter. She's gone missing."

"What?"

"Doc! Hey! Where're you-"

"Ormia…!"

* * *

Chance breathed hard, groaning and sitting up on the counter he had passed out on. His head was throbbing, and he could feel strange pains in his arms, like needling sticking in, deep. What had he just seen? Ah, he couldn't remember…

He shook his head. Maybe…it wouldn't be such a bad idea to eat...

He hopped off the table, looking around and only now noticing just how dusty, and yet full the shelves were. It looked as if the shop owner had literally just packed his bags, left everything and ran for it. Considering what kind of place his home had become, he wasn't surprised. He'd want to get out of town as fast as he could as well if he could.

Chance dusted his now numb behind off from the filth left on the counter. Thankfully not every single part of town was gore-covered and stench-ridden. The store was untidy, but at least it wasn't a killing floor. Chance first looked in the back room, and was slightly surprised, but a little pleased to find it had been a small bedroom, complete with a television set and a small kitchen. Looks like the shop owner had lived here he worked. Chance almost jumped at the closet, throwing it open and grinning tiredly when he found an old pile of clothes that had been neglected by their abandoning owner.

There were old socks, some dusty shirts-which made him sneeze when he picked them up-and a set of overalls, and finally! Finally, a set of shorts. They were a little baggy, and maybe a size too large, but they were all he had for now. It was better than walking around pants-less. He slipped them on all too eager, being reminded sourly that he had lost his flickblade.

"Damn…must still be in that room…" he thought aloud.

Well, it would if that thing hadn't cleaned up yet. Did he even clean up, or did he let those creepers just eat whatever leftovers he had lying on the floor?

The boy sighed and went back to rummage through the cans and dried foods, wishing there was something more fresh, but stomach just thankful at the sight of edible goods. He looked around for something to pry a can of preserved tomatoes with, but frowned when he saw nothing in plain sight, once more, wishing for his flickblade. He turned, venturing back to the counter, digging around in the drawers, some broken, some locked. He blinked, picking up a pack of crackers and stuffing them into his pocket, along with a screw.

Now, thankful enough that there was an extremely out of place screw and neglecting to ask why it was there, he turned his attention to the doorway. Eyes wandering down, he spotted the brick that kept the door open and swallowed-just the thought of having to get near that…monster again for a meal was less than pleasant to say the least. His stomach churned with more than just disgust though and he relented, approaching the door slowly.

Pyramid Head's gaze lowered along with his approach-noting the boy's new garments. Watching his every move, sniffing the air and tasting it for any hint of fear-a hint that the boy would run. Half hoping…he would. Chance however would not give him the pleasure of another chase so soon, and bent down, picking up the brick as slowly and cautiously as he could. His eyes never left that damned gore-covered helmet. Did it even have eyes? Could it see through that thing?

Whatever. First thing was first. He was starving. Chance turned and hurried back to the counter, slamming the can down onto it and wiping the screwdriver on his newly found shorts, placing it above the lid of the can. Arm shaking with the strain and not enough energy to lift the brick, he slammed it onto the blunt handle of the screwdriver, the sound of air releasing alerting the boy that he was successful in breaking through the tin. He smiled a little, eyes widening and hunger renewed by the smell that leaked out.

He repeated the action, turning the can all the way until the lid caved and fell into the mess of tomato-saturated water. He used the screwdriver to lift it out before tossing it aside and turning the can upside down into his waiting lips. He gorged, not waiting to chew the soft fruit all the way before swallowing it down, thick preserved water and all. The slime-like olive-oil-smelling water oozed down the side of his lips and down his chin, but he ignored the tickle, all too happy to know he was finally getting some food into his system. When he was done, he licked his lips and gave a little burp, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He frowned and realized what he had done to his favorite jacket and took it off. At least his shirt was alright.

It was rather warm, surprisingly warm, considering the ash that fell from the sky looked like snow. He was far too hungry to think that it was because of possible memoriam of a great burning fire that the ash resided from, which was too, the cause of the unworldly warmth. Chance tied the jacket at it's arms around his waist, going back to searching for food. In the midst of his search, he had a brilliant idea. Removing his jacket, he folded it inward and tied the arms together, to make a sort of crude sack. What he couldn't eat now, he'd save for later.

…if there was a later, he corrected himself.

"You just gonna stand there?" Chance frowned, glaring at the blockage in the door created by Pyramid Head's massive body.

Pyramid Head stood there silently, staring, judging. Musing. Chance could feel it. He could feel it in his very bones. Like this, he was like a pet. Considering his predicament…probably much worse than that. Either way, he had no intention of becoming a breeding tool for such a creature. But he knew what this sadistic monster could do, and he didn't dare just break out in a run for it. He was still limping slightly after all.

"Tch." Chance spat before he went back to filling his jacket with cans and packets of preserved goods. "Stupid fucker…"

The boy was foolish. With a pending attitude adjustment to boot, thanks to the years he spent riding around with the gang. No matter how scared he was-Chance didn't back down easy. He recovered well, too. As he was in the middle of stuffing his face with some canned peaches, they heard it.

A loud, boisterous, annoying sound. A sound that pierced through the soft ashes that fell through, casting them aside in it's blast, and calling forth the true nature of hell. To Pyramid Head however, it was like the call to work. And his job was to _die_ for.

Chance nearly choked when he was yanked from his little binge, being lifted off the ground. "HEY-! WHAT GIVES?" He scrambled to grab his jacket and held it close to his still grumbling stomach.

Time was short, the monster knew. He had to put his gestating brood away and get the job done, else he'll have to wait for the next siren for another _present_. Yet another soul for him to feast on and feed his already festering, cold, iron body.

"The HELL! I'm not going back there!" Chance protested, kicking and hitting his filled jacket against the back he was hoisted over carefully. "Put me the FUCK down!"

But the executioner did not listen, instead baring forward and away from the empty streets that were now changing, swallowed up by the anger of human-weaved hell. Chance gasped as he saw the crackling in the streets, bringing the same oozing despair and gore that covered the labyrinth of the beast.

Loud cries, signaled the rising of creatures and monsters that mankind could only hope would remain in nightmares. The boy shook his head in disbelief and protest at the sight of strange bird-like creatures, with knives for beaks and yet bat-like wings. The snarling of more of those demonic, sliced-up dogs, sniffing at the delicious smell of a human meal and another beast's brood in one package. He flinched, pressing himself consequently closer to the monster that had been the cause of his recurring tortures, now, hopelessly, his only chance out here.

He cringed in realization of this morbid truth, hearing fate laugh in his face, loudly, proudly.

Desperation makes one stupid. Frustration makes one blind. That moment, he was both of those things. the denial of his inevitable fate was all it took for him to trigger the flood of foolish thoughts, driving him into the depths of wild panic. Like a caged animal, he acted.

"I'm not going to live like this…" he said through gritted teeth, watching the road as if passed before his eyes in intervals, in time to Pyramid Head's steps. "I'm not…"

He was not going to give in!

Chance raised the screwdriver he had been palming along with the jacket he had, and in one swift, frantic move, he jammed it into the hand that was holding him securely against the shoulder he was bent over. Pyramid Head let out a low groan, flinching at the action and bringing his hand to see the damage. The tell-tale screwdriver penetrated through and through the palm of his hand, revealing the rotting bone and black blood that ran through his withered veins.

Chance dropped onto his back, coughing from the collision against the hard sidewalk. But he stole himself and staggered to his feet, dropping the cans and taking his jacket away with him. Pyramid Head's helmet tilted in a pondering manner, before he pulled the screwdriver out of his hand, having dropped the spear. He lowered the uninjured hand once more, staring at the wound for yet another second before swiftly turning on the boy with a metallic screech.

"Mngh…!" Chance shut his eyes as his legs heaved, limping slightly as his injured thigh throbbed.

He could hear the soft pat-pat-pat of his sneakers against ash turn into a squish-squish-squish against blood and guts, bone fragments and teeth. He didn't dare look. But he knew where to run. There was only one place for him to go. Only one place he could possibly trust in this damned hellish plane. Home.

Pyramid Head grunted, picking up his spear and watching as his prey skittered away like a frightened little mouse. He breathed slowly, considering the coming chase could wait until he had fulfilled his common duties. Fate's hand pointed elsewhere for now, another unfortunate child, being the punisher's current target. The call to slaughter overwhelmed his parental instincts and drove him to the bloody execution's stump once more. Afterall, it wasn't just the boy who hungered.

* * *

Pyramid Head dragged the squealing boy by the tuft of his hair as his little legs kicked about. Another sacrifice, a needed slaughter to complete this world, just that little bit more.

"M-Mommy…! Mommy…!" Billy sobbed, squealing like the disobedient little pig he had always been, snot running down his nose and into his mouth.

The executioner was already growing weary of hearing the boy's cries. As deaf as he was to most pleas, thoughts of the safety of his little fledglings made him unfortunately that much more aware of little details than he was used to. Eager to finish his meal and find the boy as quickly as he could, he hurried towards the abandoned hotel, dragging the signature Great Knife with low grunts.

Quickly tossing Billy into one of his fallen cages, he turned the door closed with his foot, kicking it, jamming it into a forced lock. Billy continued to sob fruitlessly, crying for the parents he so constantly went against, now needy for them. Pathetic.

Pyramid Head turned, trudging over to a large, menacing furnace. The small flame within was soon stoked, and rose up high and hot.

Inklings of little, simple thoughts went through his dark mind. As far as he was concerned, as succulent the skin of a human was, their…personalities-Is that what it was called?-were very different to each new victim. This little gift for one, was one he'd rather enjoy silent. He bided his time, tolerating the little sobs and cries until the child was far too tired to protest any longer. Every human had it's limit, and…

The furnace roared and chugged to life, making the monster growl in anticipation.

…it had been awhile since he'd had a cooked meal.

* * *

The journey was long, but the site of his house was nostalgic. The sound of the distant, but still familiar memory of the creak of his front door was soothing. The smell of the old wood, covered in dust and age was warming. It wasn't the same, but was good enough for him. It was better than staying in that death maze, filled with the stench of blood and the sound of grinding cogs that crushed bone and hooks that hung up rotting trophies in cages.

However, Chance suddenly cringed as he walked through the font door. The flesh of his abdomen coming to life, squishing and rippling against the moving eggs inside of him. No! No way! No way this was happening!

He suddenly felt sick, and finally collapsed onto his knees for the how-many'eth time. But the movement did not stop. Deep inside, the gestating eggs responded to the now digesting food Chance head finally provided his starving body. With little cracks and pops, the creatures emerged from their shells, fed by the nutrients the boy's body had unintentionally provided their developing forms.

"H-HWAA-!" Chance cried, feeling the sudden bulging of his stomach, hands shooting to quell the stretching of his skin and flesh, he stood and staggered backward, colliding against the wall. "Gya-AAH!"

He felt a sting as teeth tore at his flesh from inside, the creatures, recognizing each other as yet more food, now scrambling against the squishy pillows that were their host's insides, clawing at each other ruthlessly, screeching and biting, tearing and growling. Violent. Cruel. Like their father.

"Gukh-?" Chance keeled over, vomiting onto the floor, his organs being abused by the rapid movement of the hatchlings inside of him. "Ghu-…aa…hhuaargkhh-!"

He vomited again, the color of his puke turning from the usual green, tinging to brown, and soon to red, the more he vomited. He felt the urge to squeeze his stomach and punch at whatever was causing his sickly state. If they were going to kill each other off, he would gladly help the process along!

Chance gripped at the first bulge he spotted surfacing under his skin, gripping at it and gritting his teeth. "Krrhh…!" He bit his lip through the pain, muffling his own cries as the creature he took a hold of struggled to break free.

But gripping this much of his own flesh was painful, and he soon let go, giving in to the sting of that thing's claws and teeth trying to rid itself of the offending hand. He bent over, allowing another wash of blood-stained puke to ride up and out of his throat. He stared at the floor, amazing at how much bile and copper-tasting scarlet he could throw up in one sitting.

Was...was he going to die? Like...this...?

* * *

Sooooo….what do you think or want to happen? And AWHMAHGWASSHHHH! *gushes like a drunken baby duck being blown away in the wind* FREAKING AlbinoF0x offing MESSAGED ME. IM SO EFFING HAPPY! /./ My idol~! Hehehe. So I'm really happy. I'm sorry if I've been a little lazy and sloppy for this one. I'll go over it one more time before posting it actually. But yeah…as you know, my grandmother recently passed, and it's still…kinda hard. Not to mention the fact I've got a huge pile of homework laughing in my face right now. I wrote this during class just to get it up here for you guys, teehee. XP

Until next time! Thanks to everyone that's been following this and facing it so far! Your constant support is what keeps me going!


	11. Knife's The Word

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

Hey, yo. I'm back with yet another chapter for you guys! Thanks for all the support. I'm still a little…uneasy, from the passing of my grandmother. But I have a lot of good, close friends, and of course my followers on here. I think I'll be okay. Sorry if the last chapter was a little…action-less. But the mental psyche is also an important thing in my point of view to develop. Here we go, let's hope this one's a little more interesting… ^^'

* * *

How long had it been…? That he'd been lying on the floor there, cold, alone…those things, squirming and screeching, making terrible noises as they writhed around inside of him. Exhausted. Hungry. He didn't know how long it took, watching the shadows and light change from the dismal, bloody red, back to the soft, hopeless greyish-white that leaked ever so comfortingly through the windows. His only source of security, was that he was in his old house. Even then, who knew just how safe it was in a place like this.

Silent Hill held no masters. Silent Hill was a terror to all. All it needed was a medium. A temporary host. A temporary wish. The world ran rampant, feeding on the fears and sins of man. Swallowing them up, never to be seen again. Chance didn't want that. His father, his mother, his friends…all gone. He wanted to exist. He wanted to live.

When Chance opened his eyes, he could feel a lot less movement in the pit of his stomach. The squirming was still there, no mistake. However, the bulge felt less impeding. The feeling in his chest however was less than pleasant. He sat up quickly, breathing hard with the intrusion in his chest, looking down to find that-yes, the bulge in his gut had lessened. What had happened?

Looking around, his eyes met the horrid mess he left on the floor, a mix of green and red, blackish sludge, chunks of what he concluded as coagulated blood here and there. He turned away, cringing, suddenly feeling the very present lump in the middle of his esophagus. Hesitating due to recalling the result of his last attempt to grab at one of the little bastards, he raised a fist and thumped it against his chest, feeling the impediment rise. He blinked, realizing now that something was lodged in his throat.

Quickly moving to his knees, flinching at the strange feeling bubbling up in his throat, he bent over, ready to regurgitate whatever it was that was climbing it's way up his windpipe. He gritted his teeth, brows furrowing in discomfort as he forced his muscles to push, feeling the bulge split into several little ones. he pushed again, beating his chest with his fist as hard as he could to urge the strange feeling higher, closer to his already waiting, open mouth. He heaved, finally expelling whatever ungodly substance it was.

What came out was thick, chunky, and smelly. It smelled…like death. He stared at…what was it he was staring at?

There…was a little hand. Or…what he thought was a hand. A small one…like…a baby's.

"Huwa-gyaaaaahhh!?" Chance fell back, staring at the bloody, smelly pieces of what used to be a child. Or..some…sort of child. "Fu…Fu…"

He approached the corpse; what was left of it-slowly, eyes wandering over the dislocated limbs, a starry finger, some flesh here and there, the blood that would have flowed through it's veins.

It had been killed by it's siblings.

"Oh fuck…" he gasped. 'Mother of fuck! No mother-fucking fuck way!" he backed away from it as far as he could, looking down to his now still stomach.

Whatever happened. It wasn't over. The boy was betting whatever of those…things was left inside of him, they were just busy devouring the extra missing parts he wasn't seeing in his puke. He felt his head spin with dizziness and disgust, the overwhelming realization was wracking his brain.

Enough was enough.

Chance staggered to his feet, looking up, arm shooting out towards the railing that accompanied the staircase. He heaved himself up, towards the soft light that filtered through the window at the end of the room. He soon let go of the railing as it headed up towards the second floor, hand going to the wall for support in its stead. The kitchen…he remembered the kitchen so well, despite being so young at the time.

Even the sounds of his mother's chopping as she stood at the counter were loud and clear. And he could hear her sweet, sweet voice, singing that song. That dreaded song. The lie that had become so real. He cringed, pulling open the fourth drawer from the left, the one his mother made him promise to never open.

There in lay, the very knife his father had used to kill her. He reached for it eagerly.

* * *

A/N: Well, this has been a fantastic fucking start to the new school year. So far, my grandmother's passed away, my schedule makes it so that I can't hang out with my last year friends anymore without skipping class, and my girlfriend of almost 2 years broke up with me.

Yep. Great. Just fucking great.

Someone just kill me. Maybe then I might fall into the hell known as Silent Hill. I'm pretty sure getting killed my some random monster or skinned alive feels pretty much just about the same as what I'm feeling right now. Maybe even better. I'd rather die right now. Sorry, it's going to be a short chapter. But I'll...I don't know.


	12. Crawling, Dying, Vomiting Existences

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based off Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

**Guess who's back? Hahaha, yeah. I'm doing a little bit better than before, and hopefully channeled some of my stress and misery thanks to everything that's been happening into this story. I've done this in and out, typing some days and neglecting it others. Sorry about being gone for so long. But finally, here you are, my pretties~! Another delicious chapter for all of you! Do tell me what you think, and thank you for everyone that's been following this, supporting me, and also sharing your thoughts all this time. I look forward to looking for a great way to climax this! Please do tell me if you'd like to see anything happen! Aaah…I need to brush up on my monster knowledge. -opens up Silent Hill Wiki-**

* * *

It was a simple matter really. The curiosities of things. Of how they fitted together. Thick skin would not tear so easily. Iron muscle as tempered as the blade he wielded would not yield. But human flesh was so soft. So supple and nice to squeeze to the point of splattering into a million tiny pieces. To tear and force to detachment from the joints that fitted together so perfectly. It was interesting. Fun.

Pyramid Head thought very dimly as he sunk his fingers into the sockets of yet another victim. It was funny, the way his fingers fit in there so perfectly. Holding the head up, tearing it off the mess of a body and handling it like a bowling ball, he examined it.

Why were humans so soft? They were so…easily ripped, and some were so weak…monster were always tough. Tough and rough to touch, sometimes slimy, sometimes rotting. But humans were…fun…he dropped the head. It hit the floor and rolled, a sickening splatter accompanying it.

Billy whimpered in his cage, shaking, staring with wide, crazed eyes at the sight. He…he was next! He was next!

"Hh-…hhngh-…" the little boy bit his lip, tears streaming down his face.

But he dare not make a sound, for fear the monster would move him up to his next meal on schedule.

The executioner turned, dragging his blade slowly, he headed towards the door. It was just about time.

* * *

Chance held the knife, hands shaking. From fury. From fear. From rage. From disgust. From the mere thought of how ironic it was that he now held the very knife he was trying to run from. The child sworn to die by the knife, now gripping it ever so tightly, so strongly in his hand. It was bound to leave a mark in his palm from the force he was holding it.

Nausea was overtaking his tired and worn body. And he was also getting hungry once more. But the mirroring image of his tired, pitiful form that was reflecting off the surface of the metal back at him was just so…mesmerizing. He lifted the knife, feeling the pit of his stomach writhe to life with the movement the boy was making. He moved the knife, pricking the tip of his stomach, both hands now gripping the handle of the blade so tightly his knuckled were turning white under all the gunk and blood that covered them. But he did not push. Not just yet.

From how sharp the knife was, and how thin the crawling infants had made the skin his flesh had stretched, his stomach could…really…just…pop. He paused.

Would he live through such a thing? Was there another way to get rid of these…monsters, who wanted nothing more than to rip through his forcibly made womb themselves when the time was right? How many were left? Were they going to eat each other again? How many more times would he have to vomit a disgusting, torn-up rotting corpse of another one of those creatures?

Right. Enough was enough. Enough was enough. Enough was enough. Enough was enough. Enough was ENOUGH.

The sound of screeching and chirping, like cockroaches…BIG, cockroaches interrupted his sudden spur of hypnosis. He gasped, dropping the knife and staring at it on the ground for a second. What was he thinking?!

But there was no time for that, he turned to find little cracks in the flooring made of wood. Tiny little pins, black like the night, pierces clean through them in multitudes. They wriggled about, more breaking through, before finally, the small heads of Creepers, bashed through the surface as they struggled to get to the boy. Screeching, wailing, crawling over each other.

"Gaah!" Chance gasped, scrambling almost at once to the counter and hoisting himself up onto it, still grasping the knife.

They could smell it. They could smell the blood. The remains of the offspring of the most ferocious creature in Silent Hill. And it smelled absolutely delicious.

Chance watched the Creepers finally break through the ancient planks of wood that made up the floor of his old house, screeching, crying, crawling over each other towards him. In less than a minute they could strip him to the bone, leaving little more than scraps of flesh attached to cartilage and marrow.

"Come on, think! Think!" Chance urged himself, looking around for something, anything.

The Creepers moved like a mass of black over the floor, spilling and moving like a school of fish, only they were more like piranha than a harmless school of sardines. The mass they moved in finally collided against the counter Chance was standing on, exploding into a smaller mound, but soon reforming, climbing higher and higher. The large cockroach-like creatures staggers and crawled, clawing over each other, mouths snapping and screeching hungrily.

"Tch-…!" Chance kicked at a stray one that managed to make it over the countertop, sending it back into the horde.

He scrambles, backing into the window over the counter his mother used to see him out of. Of course! Chance turned, ramming himself into the , there wasn't enough space for good footing on the counter. The impact came short of strong enough. He grunted, stepping back just a little and swinging his body forward once again, the aged glass almost bending, but not quite breaking, refusing to set him free.

It was funny, the thoughts that went through his head. Maybe it was his brain's way of blocking out the rapid heartbeat shooting through his veins, the sheer terror in facing death ringing in his ears.

A few months ago, John and Kurtis had himself and the rest of the gang break into a local jewelry store to get some shinies for John's now ex-girlfriend. They had snuck through the back door of a high-class shop, Cartier, he recalls faintly now. Breaking the lock to get in was easy, but like most jewelry stores there were censors that sounded the alarm when the glass was broken. They were careful, bringing screws and small knives to carefully lift the glass up and away from the frame that held the case together.

Unfortunately, upon trying to exit, they found that a secondary lock, designed with two thick double bolts had been engaged in case the primary lock from the outside had been damaged. With daylight on their heels, they had no choice but to exit via the font windows. John jumped through first, breaking the glass with his massive, built body, the alarm screaming their escape. Chance's jacket had been caught on the shards of glass that still clung to the frame of the window. He panicked, trying to free himself as the rest of the gang, in the same panicked frenzy ran ahead. The sirens were close, and he could already imagine the red and blue lights of the police cars coming around the corner. He had gone to juvie before, and it was shit. There was no fucking way he was going back there.

The same feeling of raw instinct, pure fear took over his senses. He was NOT going to die like this!

The roaches finally reached the top of the counter, nipping at his heels, trying to break skin and eat away at flesh. He kicked them off, focusing on the glass in front of him.

With as much might as he could muster in his worn out state, he rammed and rammed and rammed against the unyielding glass. He gritted his teeth against the pain rising in his shoulder from the bruising force he was using. He was going to probably end up in a bad condition, but there was no way in hell he was going to motherfucking die. Not when he had managed to get this far. Not when he had withstood this much. He was going to get home!

* * *

_"His heart-rate is rising again, doctor!" _

_"What? Get me the morphine! Since when has this been happening?!"_

_"What's happening? What's happening to the kid?!"_

_"Doctor, there's movement!"_

_"Nurse, restrain the him!"_

_"Yes doc-his IV!"_

_"Someone restrain the patient, get a new needle, and where's that morphine?!"_

_"He opened his eyes!"_

_"Chance!" _

* * *

Chance gasped, falling through the window, broken glass flying around him. The voices screaming in his head. He landed a few feet below onto the grass and hard ground below the house. Luckily, he had missed the back porch steps by a few centimeters. The world was spinning, the sky moving south in his vision, slowing down as he stayed still, feeling sick.

What just happened? He had seen…something? In that moment when his shoulder had impacted against the glass, finally breaking through it, there was…he had seen a ceiling. A clean, white ceiling. It was so…sterile-looking…like the ceiling of a hospital. He had heard those voices from before, like in his dream.

The chirping of the roaches reminded the boy that there was no time to sit idle and ponder. Or in his case, to lie idle and ponder. He sat up, just as their numbers spilled through the open window, some being crushed by their own kind into the shards of glass that pointed upward. They died, spasming in pain and crying, only to be consumed by the rest of the horde, down to the exoskeleton.

Chance got up, glancing back only once to see the black critters skittle down the outside of the wall of his house and attempt to reach him, before running off. An organized mess of abandoned and old houses beckoning to him. He ran for a bit, just enough so that the chirping of those horrible things was no longer heard. Chance stopped, feeing suddenly alone once more, looking around at the maze of old houses he used to know so well. The faded white, yellow, light blue and even light pink paints of the wooden boards greeting him dimly. Compared to back then however, they seemed much much smaller.

"Guh…god-damnit…I hate this…" he grumbled, sitting on the ground next to the pathway that used to be the road to all these different houses.

He was so tired. And sore. And miserable. And hungry….again. Resting his head down against his drawn up knees, he stared through his thighs at the ground. Surprisingly, his stomach hadn't bulged as much as he had expected, sure, he couldn't see his abdominal muscles anymore, and the area around there was more strained and stretched than anything else, it wasn't as bulbus as a pregnant woman's stomach.

Stomach or not, there was something in this body of his that grumbled, asking to be filled. He sighed, rocking back and forth a little bit, letting his body rest. His right shoulder ached, and the stretches in his thigh strained. He needed food, and someplace to stay the night in actual peace. Not once in his mind however, did he long for that tiny room with the static television Pyramid Head had put him in. The mattress had been nice, sure, but the fact he was going to have that thing waiting on him so he could do god-knows-what to him when he awoke was less than comforting.

"Alright…" he sighed, standing, "God-shit…!" he flinched, feeling the stitches in his thigh finally tear.

Looking down, he found that one of the knots had come loose after the flesh over the stitch had healed, the rest of the stitches loosened and eventually snapped, dangling between the holes that the giant needle the executioner had used to weave them into his thigh. Chance gritted his teeth together. Looks like biting the bullet was something he didn't have a choice with for now. He sighed, gathering his now growing drive and limped towards the nearest house.

Prying the door open, he staggered in and immediately made his way to the kitchen, leaning on the table with both his hands. Panting, he looked up, spotting the door to the pantry and just barely limping towards it.

Hunger, raging. Eyes, blurry. Desperation, peaking.

He tore open the first thing he saw: a box filled with most likely expired bags of chips and cookies. But he didn't care. Food was food, right now. He ripped the pack of chips open, stuffing them down and virtually stuck his head into it, munching through the chips and swallowing most of them dry, before proceeding to repeat the same with the cookie pack. His stomach churned, greedily accepting the newly devoured treats.

But he needed more.

Chance panted, swallowing again and again just to get the last of the crumbs and the taste of potato down his throat as he dug through everything else on the shelves, eating what he could open and stuffing himself.

After about forty-five minutes of his binge, he finally slumped to the floor, leaning against the pantry wall, eyes dazed and jaw tired and sore. What was happening to him…? Unfortunately, he already knew where all the food was going.

"Tch…" Chance gritted his teeth, shaking.

He hated this…

* * *

He hadn't been at the store they were at before. Maybe that had been obvious, but Pyramid Head wasn't one to think individually for many things. Kill and kill and kill some more…that was his true calling, after all. But Chance had provided a pleasurable past-time. One that would reap benefit, as well.

Pyramid Head tossed aside the stray Scraper. Lately, these things have been appearing more and more lately, the world corresponding to the reality that it was slowly taking over. Those that were trapped must have had a connecting sin. Soon, he would punish again. If Pyramid Head knew how, he would have licked his lips in anticipation. Time was close. The Fukuro would be here. He had to hurry

* * *

Chance sighed, opening his eyes, bleary vision staring at the darkening ceiling. He had been asleep for a little while now. Sitting up didn't hurt his thigh as bad as before, but it was still short of any running for now. He groaned and slumped against the wall in slight defeat. How long was this going to last?

His stomach suddenly writhed, pain shooting up his spine. Not again…!

Chance lurched forward, gripping at his own stomach and crying out. "Gaaar-aaaaaagggh!" He coughed, shaking his head.

If he could just…do…something! Something that would KILL these things making him suffer. Anything! Just…at least, to spite that monstrous, murderous beast…

The writhing suddenly stopped, Chance panting heavily and sliding onto the floor on his left-side, lying there, staring at nothing in particular.

Something…anything…it would hurt but…it was better than waiting all this out. At that very moment, something caught his vision. A strain…movement, alongside the ceiling. He slowly turned to see what it was, when he noticed distinct…features. Arms, legs and…was that…HOLY SHIT?!

That…that was it's head?! That thing that was vibrating and tousling back and forth so violently?!

It was no question that this was yet another monster. Chance froze. What was he supposed to do? In this state, he couldn't possibly fight that thing off! Not something that look so…so….wrong! There was no way it was any less dangerous than anything else he had encountered. Hell, he'd never even killed a monster before!

Valtiel on the other hand, twitched and cocked his head this way and that, at incredible speeds that pictured a frightening scene to behold. Nevertheless, he was curious. A human? Here? And not dead? Judging from the worn look the boy had on his face, he had been in this world a lot longer than most would survive…

The magician crept closer, jerking his head this way and that, making terrible noises as he did so. Chance tensing upon realizing he had indeed been spotted, and was now the focus of the monster's piqued interest.

Chance backed into the pantry, pressing his back painfully hard against the shelves. "S-Stay away!" he yelled, kicking an unopened can of tomatoes at the creature as it crossed the junction between the wall and the floor, arching towards him.

In one swift, mangled-looking dash, Valitel grasped the boy's wrists in a fierce grip Chance didn't think a limber body like that could manage.

"Gha-HAH!" Chance gasped, feeling his stomach writhe to life once again, the grip at his wrists growing maddeningly painful. "AA-AAAAHH!"

Valtiel quirked his head down at the writhing, squirming bulge growing larger and larger before subsiding, as the remains of the latest kill was sent up towards Chance's throat, pushing chunks that were larger than before into the boy's esophagus.

Chance gagged, throwing his head forward, despite not wanting to get any closer to that…that horrible…face…if it even was a face. A head with nothing but yellowing, old leather, most likely made from skin, and a mouth that was crudely stitched together. They smelled almost the same. The wreaking stench of decay. Chance was already choking, and it wasn't helping one bit.

Valtiel suddenly grabbed his chin, turning it and forcing Chance to bend over, facing the floor. At the way his body arched forward, the chunks easily rode up once it hit his gag point. With a sickening sound of splattering and thick, slushy liquid with soft, fleshy chunks, he vomited onto the floor.

"Guh-…akh-…" Chance gripped the floorboards desperately, tired body at it's limit.

Just when he felt he was about to pass out, he felt a lathery, gloved hand slide down his back and insert itself into the loose hem of his pants. A chill ran down his spine.

* * *

**Muahahha! Suspense~! And Id id say I wanted to add more monsters, just to make things a little more…interesting, I might say. So I'm back. I do apologize to all of you who are waiting for the latest update of my Kutsyzaya Shizaya fanfiction. I will do that next I swear! Thank you so much to AlbinoF0x, ReaperLuci, and for supporting me this whole time, and giving me strength to keep writing despite everything. I have to say, it was a good outlet for everything, and I hope this chapter is satisfactory for all those who have been eagerly waiting~! Do tell me what you think, and I'm very open to new ideas and suggestions! I might upload the next chapter early if I can get good feedback for this one!**

**Don't forget to visit my deviantart gallery P4perCake for the cover of this fanfiction and the Kitsuzaya fanfiction! Tell your fellow creepy fans!**

**Love, JapFan04**


	13. The Nightmare is Truth Itself

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

**So I've been busy. But I managed to write this nonetheless, for all you loyal creepers out there~! I'm really glad that a lot of people ended up liking this story and a lot of people are following it, and it's even got a few favorites. Thank you for your constant support, and creep on~!**

**For this one I was listening to Hatsune Miku's Red Swamp Bottom, so if you find any similarities, you'll know why. I DO NOT own Silent Hill or Sega's Vocaloid productions. I am just a huge-ass-fan.**

**But I am not a fan of fisting. I think it is painful and not at all possibly pleasant. Why am I telling you this? Well, it's partially a warning and a fact. Read on if you dare.**

* * *

Those that reside in the depths of bloody darkness can feel the prickles of needle piercing into their flesh. A place where light does not reach, where light refused to shine. A place where sinners fell to have their intestines dragged out of their bodies writhing in pain and agony, as their eyes rotted like fruit; helpless, only able to watch and scream. The sins of the past and future, the changeable circumstances they now regretted, but can no longer change. They leave no trace of themselves in the realm of humanity. As they plead for God to let them free, begging for forgiveness, God listens and replies 'That is not something I want to hear'.

Chance's body felt the weight of hopelessness suddenly clamp down onto him as he regurgitated the last bits of rotting, eaten flesh out of his system. He panted, trying to recover once more, already having gone through so much. But he tensed, when he felt something leathery slide past the hem of his loose pants.

" Hu-?!" he turned, coming face to face with the creature that had just forced him to regurgitate so violently, crawling backwards away from it. "Go away!"

Valtiel however did not listen, crawling closer as Chance scrambled back against the wall in the pantry. the awful stench of the punished sinner's blood emanating from his rotting skin. A familiar smell. A smell that Chance somehow knew, all the monsters must have carried. The smell of death.

But at this moment, it reminded him of just _one_ monster.

Chance swallowed, trying to block the unpleasant memories out, shame filling his chest and making his heart beat fast. Valtiel heard the soft, but ever-growing lub-dub, and the stitched mouth curled and tore slightly into a menacing smirk.

"Khn-…" Chance covered his mouth, closing his eyes.

The stench was horrible. He didn't want to smell it, but it invaded his nostrils the way a spider climbs into a drainpipe to make it it's new home. Chance grew slightly dizzy, his body throbbing to life.

Fate had come back to torment once more.

He could feel those frighteningly strong hands roaming up his thighs, the hard muscles pressed into his hips and he couldn't breathe; the memory of Pyramid Head engraved into him, carved with a steel blade more lethal than even the Great knife.

His wrists were suddenly grabbed by Valtiel and thrown to the side along with the rest of his body in his distraction and he gasped when he pants were yanked down.

"NO!" he yelled, kicking at the things face, or…what he thought was it's face.

Valtiel grabbed the leg, his quick reflexes allowing him to see it coming. He yanked it towards himself, causing Chance to fall further onto his back, head being the only thing leaning against the wall now. Without wasting any time, Valtiel grabbed the boy's ass cheeks, spreading them apart as far as he could, revealing the abused, pert hole.

Chance's mind reeled, blush raging it's way onto his face as he struggled awkwardly against the grip, pressed against the wall, the floor, and those grimy hands. What was it doing?!

The attendant could smell it. The tell-tale stench of his counterpart, manifesting itself, mixing with the smell of a living, breathing human. So…it really was time. Now sure of why he had been reincarnated once more, Valtiel moved his gloved hand to the boy's entrance…

"HYAAAAAAAA!" Chance's eyes widened and his mouth stretched open with his scream so wide he thought the edges of his lips would tear, head pressing hard against the wall. "NGh-AAAH! AAAAH!"

Valtiel probed further into the boy's soft body, ignoring the jolts and cries he received. Chance gasped, eyes rolling back in pain as he felt the unpleasant yet familiar stretching of his insides as he was invaded by the thick forearm. Valtiel finally reached the pocket Pyramid Head had forcibly made inside the boy's stomach, feeling the thin membrane the fetuses had generated in their gestation and hatching.

He felt the bulging artificial womb, the softness of the boy's velvety insides clenching tightly around his arm. He moved his arm a little bit, just to test the feel of a living being's flesh, unlike he he was neither. It was so sweet, and felt just…so good to touch.

"Haa-…! S-stop! STOP!" Chance pleaded, body trembling from the pain. "A-AAUH!"

He wanted to kick, to punch, just to hurt the motherfucking thing that was probing around his insides with it's fitly appendage.

Feeling the need to just…torture the boy, Valtiel withdrew his arm none-too-gently, causing Chance to choke out another pain yell. "Gukh-!"

Chance turned onto his side once more, body trembling, tears falling freely sideways across his face and onto the floor, pooling around his head. He gasped and choked, drawing in shaky breaths, staring at the floor. His backside burning, sphincter swelling in reaction to the sudden invasion and withdrawal.

Abuse after abuse…if it went on like this, he really was going to die…

Valtiel turned, feeling the menacing presence of someone just as dangerous as himself at the doorway. The boy's cries having drawn his original abuser to the house.

Pyramid Head broke through the wood that had been the door, twitching and jerking in a rage-like fashion as he walked, before he finally stood in all his horrific stature, gazing down at Valtiel, who simply jerked his head this way and that, twitching disturbingly as he returned the gaze.

The pyramid on the punisher's shoulders turned, his gaze falling upon the boy on the floor before he quickly turned his attentions back to Valtiel, stomping forward violently, a low groaning which could count as a monstrous roar accompanying the action. Valtiel let a out a monstrous growl and hiss before skittering up the wall as quickly as he could, Pyramid Head's spear narrowly missing.

But both knew they would not kill each other. A warning was well deserved however, Pyramid Head dimly felt. Chance was his toy, and he intended to be the one to break him.

In the time Pyramid Head watched Valtiel scurry out the window as the sky turned red once more, calling them both to their duties, Chance had managed to pull up his pants and at least crawl to the end of the kitchen and was about to attempt opening the door to get away. In a few, large strides which were much faster than before, thanks to the fact Pyramid Head had left his cumbersome Great Knife in the Labyrinth, Chance was once again trapped.

"Huu-?!' Chance yelped, bringing his arms up in attempted protection when he heard the chirping of those Creepers.

They returned in number, following the massacre of fresh kills Pyramid Head had left in his wake, this time skittering over and swarming the leftovers of the latest of the deceased brood Chance had expelled. In secret even to himself, Chance was grateful they ignored him as long as the beast was present. Eve so, he didn't want to admit it made his situation any better.

Pyramid Head was satisfied enough the human had lived up to his expectations. Two cycles and he was still in one piece, a little more worn for wear, but either way, the process of gestation had not been interrupted in the slightest.

That, they both knew.

"Just…khi…kill me." Chance spat, gritting his teeth and glaring at the floor.

Pyramid Head uttered a low groan, swinging his arm under the boy's back, bringing him up and holding him over his shoulder, feeling the bulge in his stomach grow with the two dominant fetuses left. A low rumbling, like a great lion purring echoed from within his helmet.

Chance uttered a frustrated cry, grasping onto he back of the apron draped on Pyramid Head's body, kicking his legs defiantly. Even after everything, that inlaying of rebellion and strive to cling on had yet to die out. The punisher knew…that was something that had to be taken care of. And he knew exactly how.

* * *

The town was crawling with all kinds of things now. Corpses looked fresh, monsters ran rampant. Screams could be heard. In terror's cradle of monsters, the punisher strode, carrying his granted catch to a place Chance could only guess at.

But he was not the only one who stirred. Fate's gears had become active again, turning and clanking together, and the Otherworld grew more and more powerful. The sky was soaked with the blood of it's victims, a beautiful crimson, snowflakes of black ash fell from the clouds that were once white and pure.

Chance cringed, watching a man who suddenly appeared from the left of his peripheral vision, being chased and eventually hunted down and devoured by some of the demon dogs he had seen earlier. His screams echoing through the gore-soaked air. Scream after scream, the sound of ripping flesh and crunching bone, shrieks of monsters on the hunt…

Chance closed his eyes, trembling at the feel of the excited squirming in the pit of his guts.

* * *

_"Kid…?"_

"Huh…?" Chance blinked, breathing shallowly, staring up at the clean white ceiling.

His body was heavy, and he was aching all over, a tightness around his head told him he had a bandage wrapped around it. The dull hob of pain in his arm alerted him, but when he looked he found only a needle embedded in it, leading to the IV drip.

"Well, it looks like you're up…you had me worried…" A woman with long, straight blonde hair in a nurse's uniform, wearing a red sweater smiled at him, placing a bowl filled with water on the desk next to his bed along with a fresh, clean towel.

Chance stared at her, blinking twice. "I'm…"

"You were having a bad dream." she said, smiling. "I'm Lisa Garland…but you can call me Lisa. You had quite a fall there."

"A….fall…" Chance repeated, voice hoarse from not having been used in a long time.

" it's quiet now." Lisa said, taking the bandages that criss-crossed across Chance's head off, lifting his head up carefully. "You had a concussion and were out for about a week or so now."

"I…fell off the bike…?" Chance wheezed, flinching slightly as he was moved. "Ah-…"

"Sorry…it was a hard hit, but luckily there was little to no brain damage, the doctor said. You threw a couple fits, though…ripped your first IV out of your arm…" Lisa explained gently as she put the used bandages into the bin, taking the towel and soaking it in the water.

Chance sighed as he felt the cold towel dab the side of his strangely warm head, seeing as the bandages earlier were stained a brilliant crimson. "Hh-…which…hospital is this…?"

"Why, you're in Brookhaven." Lisa answered as she dabbed the cloth ever so carefully against the boy's wound.

"Brookha…ven…?" Chance didn't recognize the name, but he sighed. "Dream…was it..really…"

"Shh…" Lisa said a little strongly. "Don't talk, you'll make the pain worse."

Chance sighed and closed his tired eyes. "Feels like…I've been walking for years…"

Lisa continued the clean the wound, soon replacing the bandages, before she raised herself and smiled, taking the bowl away along with the dirtied towel.

The boy meanwhile stared at the ceiling. "…so…this is…the ce-ngh…I saw…" he said, flinching as he discovered that yes, the nurse had been right, talking did make his head throb.

Had it all…been just a dream? A terrible, horrible dream? He thought, turning on the side of his body that the injury was not on. He sighed again, heavier this time and shut his eyes, feeling his body suddenly grow heavy with tire.

It must have been only…five minutes…but when he opened his eyes, fate was laughing and spitting in his face yet again.

The hospital was dilapidated and cold. The room's floor was covered in a strange tarp, along with the walls. His heart jumped, recognizing the smell of rotting flesh and despair that hung heavy in the air.

And then that dreaded song's voice spoke out once more. Slowly, drawn out. Taunting, teasing…

_Child, you must obey your parents; do everything they say._

…No…Why…

* * *

**Okay, so this was kinda short, I have to apologize. But I've been trying to get my butt into gear for the week that's coming…TEST WEEK! DDX I go to an international Art college and stuff, but it's difficult with all the competition here…not to mentionn the fact my costly request is still pending and I haven't been working on it…oh god. Well, this was a short one, but I hope it'll be enough to keep you kiddies going for maybe a week before you all start raving for more. **

**Just to clarify, I am not complaining. I enjoy people letting me know what they think about the fanfiction and I will gladly feed all the anticipated mouths snapping at me for the next chapter! Just ask. Hehe! Until next time!**

**Love**

**JapFan04 **

**(Also known as P4perCake on deviantart if you'd like to see that fanfiction cover in full view that isn't available here on )**


	14. Metatron's Incubus

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

* * *

**Hey~! I'm baaaack~! And unfortunately I'm busier than ever. Final projects for each class are incoming, and then I have my Integrated Studio Project, which is like an overall final project combined! Not to mention I have to finish my own pikachu costume for Anime Festival Asia this year along with my friend's clock sword prop…-sighs- But I am dedicated. I reread all the reviews to this and I realized I haven't been fair! So now I'm back with a new, tasty, gorey, dark, wonderfully sadistic chapter for you all!**

* * *

Chance's eyes widened as he heard the poem's voice in his head, reciting yet another, terrible verse.

_Child, you must obey your parents; do everything they say._

When was this ever going to end?! He cringed, feeling a dull but true pain ride up his spine. "Hkh-?!" he tried to sit up and see what was the matter, but soon realized it only made the pain worse and cried out, slumping back down.

His eyes fixated on one very unimportant spot on the now grimy, dismal ceiling. It smelled like copper in the room. Admittedly, the smell of a sterile, all-too-clean hospital room was unpleasant…but it was better than this.

What could he do? In this state-wait…!

"What if-…" Chance said quietly, hesitating, before swallowing. "Don't be a pussy…" he growled at himself.

Knowing was better than not knowing in any case. A lazy, hesitant hand raised itself, moving to his sheets and reluctantly, but swiftly pulling them off.

…. buldge was still there. Nothing had changed. It…it wasn't…

Chance cringed, feeling hot tears prickle his eyes and finally fall past the corners of his lids, flowing past his ears before finally staining the already ruined pillow his head rested on. It wasn't a dream after all…He had hoped…

_Shhkh…shkkhh…crckh…grkchk…grkchrjfchckrjfke…_

It wasn't..really a shuffle. It was more of…something spastically thrashing and writhing…like something was moving quickly. Chance gasped a little, realizing only now how vulnerable he was.

He'd only heard it once before…very recently however. When…that…that THING…crawled off the wall and…no. He shook the thought away. Thinking back to that wasn't going to help him now. He slowly pulled the blankets over himself again, the childhood instinct that the place under those sheets was a sacred sanctuary stemming into this reaction.

He peered ever so slightly from the top of the blanket, eyes darting around, trying to locate the source of the sound.

Shkhefghrugh…sksjghhrghh…

It was getting louder. He closed his eyes and tried to pinpoint the sound when-

"KREEEEEEEEEE~!"

A horrible, high-pitched screech, followed by a thud, nearly made him jump. Chance shuddered, feeling the cold chill of sudden shock run down his spine and hating it. He steered himself, breathing slow, as quiet as possible, so as not to alert any monsters.

He heard the same weird shuffle, but this time it was followed by a dragging noise. He inhaled deep once, swallowing his fears and turning his head to the door. His body went stiff.

The door hadn't been wide open before…had it…?

As his gaze was fixated on it, a small, cloth…bump…something like that, poked from the side of the door, emerging slowly, before he recognized it as the creature's faceless head.

Valtiel sniffed at the air to the room, his head jerking this way and that, in a manner that made Chance bite his lip so as not to make any noise, as…scared, yes…he had come to admit it. As _scared_ as he was, he was hoping that maybe…just maybe, keeping still and quiet would help him not be found. He considered the fact that well..the other was indeed, blind.

However, Valtiel needn't eyes to see, to feel where his prey was. He made a strange noise, a half-growl, half-snort, but surely a satisfied noise before his head disappeared out of view.

"Oh…fuck no…" Chance trembled.

Not that thing again…anything…anything but that thing…He didn't want anything more to do with it!

Valtiel heaved the body of the still screaming and writhing Nurse across the floor, being sure to drag it across the broken glass fragments and stray metal pieces of pipe and other things on the floor. It screeched horribly, Valtiel only taking note to drag the body more harshly, increasing the torture.

"The fu-…" Chance gasped when the two came into view in the doorframe, Valtiel holding the nurse-like monster's legs tightly, before dropping them. Chance's heart jumped, the outfit mimicking that of Lisa's, and for a second he feared the worse.

Valtiel glanced at the boy, writhing strangely before picking up the Nurse's legs again and continuing the drag the screaming, struggling monster down the hall. The sight of the rest of the body relieved Chance. It wasn't Lisa…

The comfort was short lived, when he began to wonder what exactly that thing was going to do to the other monster. Were they…human at some point in time? He wondered, remembering Sally's re-animated corpse. Was that what happened to you if you died here…?

He didn't want that.

* * *

The Nurse gave one final cry as Valtiel tossed the not-woman out the nearby window at the end of the hall. Luckilly for Chance, he didn't get to see the thing split it's head open on the pavement and break it's neck in an inhuman angle, legs splayed out like a flower's petals forced apart before the bud was due to open.

Chance's breathing was getting hard again. It had looked at him…The thing…had LOOKED at him…before the dying screams of the Nurse echoed into the room.

Was he next…?

Valtiel cracked his neck and lurched back onto all fours, scurrying, swaying as he made his way back to the door of the room. Chance froze, the sounds of his shuffling making his nerves go haywire. He shut his eyes. And then, everything was quiet.

"…hh…?" Chance swallowed, not daring to open his eyes. Not just yet.

He waited. Not even the sounds of the wind outside or the awkward ringing that one hears in the ears when there is no sound to stimulate the eardrum was present. It was absolutely silent.

A minute passed. Then two.

Maybe…maybe the thing had decided to leave him alone. Maybe he was going after some other monster?

Chance cracked an eye open. And almost at once, wished he hadn't.

It…it was on the ceiling!

Valtiel crooned as he stared down at the frightened boy on the hospital bed, Chance being unable to do anything but stare back, frozen, stiff.

The magician detached himself from the ceiling, turning in mid-air and landing directly top of Chance, arms and legs bending in a weird way to catch themselves on the bars on the sides of the bed.

"AAAAH!" Chance finally let out, throwing his blanket over his head and turning his face into the pillow as far as his body would all him. "No! Go away! Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Valtiel suspended himself over the boy, sneering and growling, lowing his body so his head was mere inches from the mound under the blanket that was Chance's face. Chance didn't even dare shiver, he didn't even dare breathe. Images of a strange creature flashed through his mind, something evil, he could feel. The head of a goat, with demonic horns and breasts, floating freely above a spine that was exposed through a rotten torso over crossed legs. Skin, like everything else in the wasting town, corroding, thin, veiny and tinted grey and red. The same strange seal, Chance not understanding that it was the seal of Metatron, that was on each of Valtiel's shoulders hovering in a metal craft behind it.

The incubus had awakened. Although yes, it was true, that Harry Mason had defeated it once, there were other ways the Otherworld of Silent HIll could use it's powers. A dead monster, was not entirely, a useless monster. It was a sign of what was to come. Of only the boy understood, just what it meant.

Valtiel cocked his head to the side before jumping and spinning, landing so that he was in the same position as before, only now facing the other direction, directly above the boy's swollen stomach. His oversized body that was almost as large as Pyramid Head's, looking more like a giant spider above the boy and the bed.

Without any pause, he threw the blanket open, Chance yelping and almost retracting his legs in reaction, if not for Valtiel's swift reflex, holding the boy's legs down by the ankles.

"Stop!" Chance cried, trying to sit up, despite the throbbing pain finally setting in front their first encounter with each other.

Valtiel simply growled and moved closer to the boy's stomach, pressing his hole of an ear to it, listening. Chance gritted his teeth when he felt his stomach squirm to life, responding to the presence of the other monster.

There were small cries and low groans, and for a second Chance thought that other monsters had finally come to the room. But it didn't take long for him to feel the vibrations resonating through his own body, and to realize that, they were coming from his stomach.

"Wh-waaaaAAAAHH!" Chance screamed in terror as his stomach expanded with sudden thrashing and violent movement of the two remaining, dominant fetuses inside of him. "AAAAH-! GY-UAAAAH!"

His body twitched and he could only grasp the bars with both hands, holding as tightly as he possibly could knuckles turning a ghastly white as he did so.

Valtiel wasted no time, hunching and drawing himself together, he pounced on the bloated stomach, putting all his might and weight into the landing.

"Ghk-UH-?!" Chance choked, feeling bile rising to his throat, the pain up his spine increasing tenfold, his stomach throbbing dully as he felt what seemed to be the bump of a child's head, as hard as steel press against Valtiel's weight.

The crying increased and Chance could only scream and pant as Valtiel forced the stomach back into the boy's body, Chance feeling the bulge lower from it's original place.

Chance realized what the creature was trying to do when Valtiel grabbed his inner thighs, forcing them apart, the area below his waist showing shamelessly through the hospital robe.

"N-NO!"

He…he wasn't serious! There was no way this was possible!

"You can't-! You can't!" Chance protested, screaming through the chokes and coughs he was uttering as Valtiel sat on his stomach, the weight of a muscular, fleshy beast pressing down on him without mercy.

The fetuses raged and attacked each other, until finally the space in the womb was far too small, and it broke, Chance gasping as the horrible feeling of something slick and hot flowed out of him, between his ass-cheeks.

The blush on his face was heavy and he could feel the stinging of endlessly-flowing tears run down his face and onto the pillow and the gown. His intestines expanded into impossible size, the pop of the womb resonating through his body, causing him to go into further panic.

"AAAH! NO! NOOO! AAAAH! HA-! AH! HAAH! H-HAH!"

He began to breath quickly, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back, chest heaving at a dangerous pace, nek giving way as he arched in pain.

Valtiel did not move. He did not heed the boy's pain. He only watched, cruelly, waiting until finally the head of something festering, writhing and moving poked it's way out the boy's entrance.

It lingered there, the sound of a growling little monster muffled by human flesh, before it suddenly lurched forward, and it's indescribable face was revealed, scarred with it's brother's claw-marks. The left half of it's face was almost gone, save for the hard bone that supported it.

Oh well. He would survive long enough for the purpose of this world. Valtiel knew. He reached down and grabbed the thing's head, pulling as hard as he could and slowly easing it out of the boy's tight ring of muscle.

"GGHNAAANGH-!" Chance's hands finally let go of the bars, moving to his mouth, fingers stuffing themselves into his face as much as they could.

His teeth clenched down on his own appendages, and they began to bleed. But the pain he was causing himself gave him a little distraction from the pain down below.

Valtiel gave one final yank, the body of the monstrous abomination of a child finally coming free from his host's body. Almost carelessly, Valtiel let go of the thing's head, letting it drop off to the side of the bed, the only thing saving it from falling onto the filthy floor being the installed bars.

"Hff-! Hfft-! Ghhn-UUUUHNNGH!" Chance sobbed, screaming onto his bleeding fingers, bile and copper tastes mixing in his mouth as he felt sick and his fingers bled.

Valtiel sat further down onto the boy's now shrinking stomach, growing eager. He bent over, and tactlessly shoved his right hand into the already abused opening.

Chance saw white, and he could've sworn he felt his soul leave his body for a split second. "GHNGH-! AAAAAAAAAH!"

Valtiel felt around, the soft, tender insides of a human inviting his own cold flesh despite the desperate pushing Chance was now doing to get the arm out of him.

"Ghah-! NN-…!" Chance shook his head, thrashing against the sheets and pillow, feeling the arm and the bulge that was the remaining fetus grow closer and closer to each other. "Sh-shtoph…!" he whimpered through his bleeding fingers.

Valtiel gripped the rather solid skull of the fledgling that was making it's escape from the body it had been growing inside of. Valtiel yanked it, uncaringly, violently.

"GH-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

This time, his screams echoed, resonating not just through the hair, but within the confines of a very solid, very metallic, triangular helmet.

* * *

Pyramid Head lifted his latest kill, stuffing the last of the meal into the underside of his helmet, a sickening crunching sound of tearing flesh and destroyed bone resounding along with the scream. He moved quickly, discarding whatever was left in his hand and turning in the direction of the scream. A scream only one human he knew would make.

Fury gripped at his being at the thought of the boy being punished or tortured by something other than himself. Envy being the rising sin out of the sea of wrongs, which was the only bank of emotion in Silent Hill. And did he feel it. The boy would pay for getting caught so easily.

* * *

"Aaa…...aa….aaa…" Chance's dull eyes, flooded with still oncoming tears wavered only slightly as he stared at the ceiling, mouth hanging open, gasping just slightly for that little bit of air that kept him alive. His body twitched at the throbbing, screaming pain it felt.

Slowly, but energetically, the two offspring crawled to the blood that had spilled out from their host's body at the centre of the bed. As the creatures came closer to the pool of blood and fragments of the boy's insides, they recognized each other and immediately began squabbling over the meal.

Chance's spread legs trembled, barely able to support themselves before they slipped off the bars on the bed and he lay there, spread eagle, uncaring, completely drained. He continued to stare at the ceiling, a glazed look overtaking his once lively, almost-silver blue eyes, the orbs turning a dull grey. He didn't even sigh.

Finally, the song whispered again. Claiming it's victory not only to the boy, but to the world it was now invading.

_Little ones who do otherwise, he tortures in the flames…_

Slowly, Chance's eyes slid shut. His chest deflating slowly.

* * *

Valtiel suddenly screeched and snarled as he collided against the wall, almost making a trip out the window like the nurse from before had, himself. The door that had collided against him falling to the floor to almost splinter with the force it had been thrown with.

Pyramid Head clambered into the room, twitching and jerking with fury at the smell of the boy's blood, a smell he had learned to identify with. Pyramid Head only needed glance at the unconscious boy on the bed before he went into a newfound rage.

Valtiel hissed and screeched back, launching himself at the bed once more to snatch up the now feasting fledglings of his counterpart before scuttling away with them both in one arm as Pyramid Head tried to make a grab at him.

"Eee…eeee…" the small cries of the little monsters reached their father's ears, and Pyramid Head paused, looking at them in Valtiel's grasp, grunting and his shoulders relaxing.

One of the little beasts had his left side almost completely clawed down to the bone, revealing flesh and scars from his brother. Scars only a caliber of Pyramid Head's could inflict. The other was a strange color, a dark grey, almost navy blue and yet the tone to it's skin had a metallic feel to it. It's face was completely gone due to his brother's attacks when they fought each other in the womb of their host. Surprisingly, two instead of just one survived.

Although he'd never seen them before, the executioner knew.

A strange, but understood silence filled the air, the two creatures staring each other down without eyes and without actual gazes. Pyramid Head turned his helmet towards the boy on the bed, taking note of the scene carefully. As carefully as an animalistic monster could.

Valtiel growled low, but in an un-hostile way, before taking the offspring he had delivered and scurrying out the window he had nearly been thrown out of. Pyramid Head's attentions were elsewhere as he exited.

Pyramid Head grabbed the bloody sheets under the boy, wrapping his body in them.

* * *

**Ohohoho. So…what do you think is happening? What of Chance? :P let's see where the reviews take us. This time, I want some real suggestions. And I hope all of you who freaked out over Valtiel being in the story are happy, if not, do tell me if you want some further involvement from him.**


	15. I'm Sorry (Again)

**No, I'm not having an emotional breakdown like last time. My girlfriend and I, though not together are getting along splendidly and we're still thinking about moving in with each other once school is over, ect. It's quite pleasant. It's mostly my assignments and everything. I do have good news however, that all my assignments will be due next week! ...aaaand, after that I have to seriously get down and do my cosplay work which I have been neglecting. But, it is a huge lift off my shoulders. **

**I know a lot of people have been following this, and have thoroughly enjoyed it. I do miss reading from some of my first ever reviewers and my idol author, AlbinoF0x, but I do love writing this fanfiction and that's why I keep writing. I did however start this in my own free time, and am very sorry but ask for your understanding about my next week. **

**I am also mentally strained as to the creative output art-school is demanding out of me. I have been pushed to limits of design and creative thinking I have never before experienced, and although it is very good for me, it is also very draining. So I am sorry for my lack of capacity to write anything even up to the standards of what I started with. So when I do update, I will be sure it'll be worth all of your while. To all of you that have faved, reviewed, messaged and read, thank you so, so, so much for supporting me. **

**In short, I might be on a hiatus. I don't know for how long. Whenever I recover from my mental strain I will post once more. I hope you all enjoy the recent chapter I did update with, and please do tell me your thoughts, what you think might happen, what you hope will happen, what you were disappointed with, what were a few things lacking, anything. Don't be afraid to tell me, I promise I don't bite. Well...not as hard as a monster does. :P**

**I am going to the beach this Friday with my class, so I hope that'll give me the energy I need~!**

**Love,**

**JapFan04**


	16. A Beast's Belonging (SMUT)

This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.

The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):

"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:

There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to _Silent Hill 2_

Mayan Escalante, senior artist of _Homecoming_, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]

Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]

The BradyGames _Homecoming_ strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]

The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]

Various interviews with developers [8][9]

Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."

Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..

Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.

Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.

Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.

There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:

"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.

Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'

**Hey all~! Thanks so much for the reviews, and do keep them coming. I want to know if you're happy with the story, if you think there are some parts that need improvement, any spelling mistakes (sorry, I haven't really had the capacity to figure out how the beta reader thing works here yet), and if you want to see anything happen. It's really what keeps me writing. As much as I love the plot when I'm writing this, and it is part of my own sick fantasy (Oh come on, as if you didn't know you'd have to be at LEAST a little sick to be a Silent Hill fan :P) I like to see everyone reading this story surprised, satisfied, shocked, and basically swayed with the plot. So if you don't tell me, I won't know how good or bad of a job I'm doing~! **

**Anyways. Enough with my attention-whoring. On with the fic~!**

* * *

William trembled in the confines of his cage, waiting, waiting and waiting still. What was going to happen to him? Was he going to be eaten? Why? All he did was follow them when they took Sally away…he wanted to know. Why? Why had all the adults lied?!

They…they hung her. Killed her. That meant it was because of them all his friends were disappearing.

But the monster was proof that there was, indeed a Boogeyman. The poor boy thought, not understanding the true reason for the helmeted creature's sudden appearance. The lies of his parents had melded together to form a sick,twisted reality in the mind of the very bundle now being brought in by said executioner.

William looked up from his spot, eyeing the blood-stained bundle made up of what looked like bed-sheets that was slung over the demon's shoulder. He scooted back, further into the wall at the far end of his confinement, staring in fear. Another monster?

Pyramid Head lifted the bundle from his shoulder, placing it on the ground as gently as the monster knew how, not without a slight thud however, and the splitting of some of the bones left on the floor upon landing.

William's eyes widened as the blankets fell open to reveal a face with messy, blood-stained hair, eyes closed.

…dead…?

Pyramid Head turned back to the furnace's now moderately burning flames, throwing in a few pieces of meat from the gore-covered floor, an intestine from here and a stomach from there, hell, there was even a stray eyeball in the chunks. The organs exploded in the fire, causing a putrid smell to emit from the black smoke that followed, filling the room. Pyramid Head heaved a great sigh, seeming to take in the scent.

The boy on the floor twitched slightly at the noise. William swallowed. He…he was alive!

Pyramid Head turned away, heading through the door, slow, monstrous steps mimicking the pace of William's heartbeat as he tried to remain calm, watching him go.

Once the executioner was out the door, William scrambled to the end of the cage, as close as he could to the other boy.

"H-hey…hey…!" he said, voice shaking and nose prickling with the feel of snot coming back as he teared up.

He was so scared. He didn't want to be alone anymore. Please…please don't be dead.

"Hey!"

Chance's nostrils finally registered the horrid smell and his eyes snapped open, a violent fit of coughs assaulting his throat. He wheezed tiredly, staring straight ahead, not even realizing who he was looking at.

"Hey! Hey are…are you okay…?!" William sniffled, trying to reach out to him. "Please help me…!"

Chance blinked slowly, body numb, and mind swimming in the gutter. That face…that same, snotty, stupid face…he knew that face.

"B….Bi…Billy…" he breathed. "Bi…lly…?"

William blinked at the mention of his nickname. Only three people he knew ever called him that.

"Wh…who're you…?" 'Billy' asked.

Chance stared a moment longer, eyes filling up with tears as he slowly realized who it was he was talking to. Yes…it really was Billy.

"…Heh…" Chance smiled a little, weakly. "Fig..rues…you…..woul…dn't…recogni…me…shrimp…"

Billy's eyes lit up. "Ch…Chance…? You…."

Chance raised a trembling, pale hand, trying to push himself up, when the numbness in his body suddenly cleared up, just long enough for great stinging pain to strike him.

"Urgh!" he grunted, falling back down on his side. "Fuck…"

Billy made a face.

"…" Chance stilled himself, breathing hard as the numbness came back, drawing the pain off for now. "S..orry man…know….you never were the…bad kind…"

"What happened to you?" Billy asked, eyeing the hospital gown that was revealed when Chance tried to heave himself up, the blanket having fallen some. "Are…are you okay…?"

Chance cringed and looked away at the question. "…you….don't…want'a know…"

"Can you move…?" Billy asked. "I…I want to go home…"

Chance went silent, gaze returning to his long-lost childhood friend. "…we are home…this…"

"Silent Hill…" Billy said. "This isn't home. It's a bad dream. It's a very very bad dream. All because I've been a bad boy…"

Chance blinked, understanding full well what he mean. He was stuck here as a sinner too. "What'd…you do…?"

"I…mom and dad told me not to…but…remember…remember when we all wanted to go to the lake together, you, me and Sally? And Sally never came?"

Chance's body felt cold all of a sudden, at the mention of the girl's name, seeing images of her mangled body coming to life as it tried to attack him, only to be split in half by the Great Knife. "Y…yeah…"

"I saw Sally later on our way home. Mom and Dad said she was taken away by the Bogeyman remember?!" Billy's voice escalated. "But I saw her, and she was with her parents and Mom and Dad and your Mom and Dad were there too…! I followed them and…they….they…"

"Hey…" Chance heaved, breathing hard. "Don't…don't say…it…if you ca-can't…"

Billy whimpered. "She's gone…they did it. The Bogeyman didn't…she didn't do anything wrong."

Chance shifted, trying to crawl or ease his way closer to the cage. "Hey…it's okay…"

He may have been his best friend when they were kids, but looking at him now, still a little kid, still so snotty and scared, made Chance feel like he needed to be the big brother this time around.

"Th-that's why…" Billy sniffled, hiccuping as he began to cry. "That's why…I-I'm here…ri-right..? C-cause…I did bad…I didn't d-do what…mom and dad…said…and I…"

Chance's eyes widened as he remembered the poem's latest verse.

_Child, you must obey your parents; do everything they say..._

_Little ones who do otherwise, he tortures in the flames..._

"No…" Chance said softly, directing his gaze at the steady flames of the furnace.

Billy looked up at him questioningly as the sounds of shuffling suddenly rose in volume in the room. Chance could feel his body screaming at him, his useless legs begging him to keep still and rest. But he couldn't. There was no way he was going to listen.

"Ghh…grrhh…burgh…" Chance groaned as he dragged himself on his forearms across the floor ridden with monster and human fragments, feeling stray teeth and remains of bone digging into his flesh.

"What are you doing?!" Billy asked.

"I won't…" Chance gasped, panting and pausing for awhile to catch his breathe before starting up again, slowly making his way towards the cage. "Let…you…"

Billy tensed up at the thought, only able to catch Chance creep closer and closer. Chance reached the lock of the cage, only to realize it was one of the few unrusted locks in Silent Hill. He sighed, slumping in front of the cage door and gritting his teeth, groaning in frustration.

"It's locked…" Billy said, whimpering. "Wh-What's gonna happen to me…?"

"Nothing." Chance said, fire returning to his eyes.

He may have been lost. But if Billy had a chance at getting away, he wasn't going to let that slip without a fight.

"I'm done for…" Chance said. "But…you…you can still run…"

"What about you…?" Billy asked, reaching out and clasping one of Chance's bloody hands.

Chance smiled a little, staring at the floor. "I've….already been tainted…"

"Huh?"

"Doesn't matter…there's no way I can get away…not like this…" Chance looked up at the child's smaller face. "I need to rest up first then….maybe…when I can run…maybe…"

He said that but…the hopelessness in his real thoughts was very evident. He wasn't so sure for himself anymore. Chance spied a stray fragment of what looked like it was once a femur. The edge was pointed and splintered, but it was good enough. He grabbed it, holding it like a dagger and jamming it, not into the lock itself-he was still too smart for that-but into the rusting, aged loops of the cage.

Billy jumped at the sudden movement, watching and swallowing as Chance lifted the femur again and again, the sound of bone and metal clashing and breaking against each other above everything else, including the roaring of the fire in the room.

After a minute or two, the loops gave way, Chance reaching out quickly, the heavy lock landing on his hand, making him cringe in pain. But it was better than having the lock make a loud clanging sound on the floor. Who knew where Pyramid Head was and if he could hear them, now that he had enough sense to think about it. He just hoped that his earlier shenanigans with the bone and the loops hadn't caused too much noise.

"There…" Chance sighed, grinning tiredly. "Go….run…"

Billy scrambled out of the cage and almost at once tugged on Chance's shirt. "No…you…you have to come with me…!"

"I can't walk…I can't even stand…" Chance said in despair. "You've got your legs. You need to run while you still have them."

There was no sugarcoating it. Not in this place. He yanked Billy close and hissed in his ear with the gasp of breath he was still managing to draw.

"Run. Run and don't stop. If you need to stop, hide. Hide well. Don't let him catch you, or he might cut off your legs." He said in all seriously. "Run, and don't let any of them catch you…none of them. Understand?!"

Billy gasped and stared at his friend before nodding shakily nodding. "O-okay…okay…"

"Go. Run. RUN!" Chance urged, hearing the familiar screeching of a heavy blade being dragged across the floor. "Don't go out the door, there, the window!" he pushed the femur into the boy's hand, making the other cringe and yelp in disgust. "Use this!"

Billy did as he was told and hurried to the boarded up window. The screeching was getting closer, and with Chance yelling it was obvious they were up to something. Pyramid Head's low guttural groan could be heard. Billy used the femur as a lever, prying some of the boards off and snapping others in half, just managing to clumsily make his way out the window.

The white light of the ash-filled sky seeped in. Chance had won this round. The Otherworld retreating with the unfulfilment of the poem's latest verse.

Pyramid Head roared as he entered the room, already aware of the latest escape, feeling the redness of the walls grow into a dull brown and the sky turn from crimson to white. With slow, furious steps he made his way towards the limp body on the ground, caught red-handed, still at the open door of the cage.

Chance strained, but he turned enough to look up defiantly at the creature, as battered and bruised, and as worn and pathetic he looked, still, he glared. "How do you…like that…huh? You sick fuck…"

The executioner grabbed the by by the back of the neck, lifting him up into the air, growling menacingly.

"Guh-!" Chance flinched, legs dangling as fresh blood still trickled from between them and into the floor. "Ack-!"

He cried out again when he was roughly thrown over the thing's shoulder, his stomach throbbing in pain and back burning. "AAH! HA-!"

Pyramid Head hardened his grip on the boy's hips, pressing him further down on his shoulder, reveling in the pained grunts and yelps he managed to get from the boy.

"Ghkh-…" Chance teared up and coughed, vomiting blood and chunks of unidentifiable origin onto the floor, some managing to get onto the smock.

Pyramid Head ventured into the other corner of the room, dropping the boy not-too-gently on a dusty mattress that was laying on the floor.

"GAH-!" Chance cried as he landed on it, pain shooting up his spine.

Pyramid Head's tongue snaked out from under his helmet, slicking up the mattress and making it's way up the boy's shin. Chance gasped and inched away from it. Pyramid Head growled low, patience already gone from the boy's earlier actions in aiding his latest catch escape. The tongue swiftly wrapped itself around Chance's ankle, yanking hard as Pyramid Head bent low, hovering over the other.

"Wah-!" Chance gasped, being dragged enough to fall onto his back, the way the situation looked, he didn't like where he thought it was going. "No-! I can't-!"

The executioner held the boy down with one mighty hand, Chance's own hands rising to grab at the monster's arm. He noticed that the other's gloves had been removed recently, recognizing the stitching that held his first and middle fingers together, and ring and pinky finger together. Although whether or not that had been painful did not register, but one thing did…there was a scar of a wound that was in the middle of the beast's hand.

The one he made when he stabbed Pyramid Head with a screwdriver at a time which seemed like forever ago now.

"DONT-!" Chance choked mid-plead when the thing's slick tentacle-like appendage unravelled itself from his ankle and suddenly lapped between his bleeding cheeks. "MNGH-!"

The tongue slicked the wounded area, coating itself in the delicious, red honey. Sweet and coppery.

Pyramid Head growled low, something that sounded very pleased as he lathered his tongue in his sweet treat. The blood was warm and pleasant to taste, the executioner only ever having tasted the blood of corpses before he had been gifted the boy.

"Gh-…d-don't…!" Chance flinched, writhing against the slick tongue, body straining against the strange feeling, mixing with the already present pain, but weak body still too damaged to make any proper effort at getting away.

The pyramid-shaped helmet tilted to the side, tongue finally snaking into the torn hole and into the deepest parts of the boy's body.

"HYAA-!" Chance cried, tears prickling his eyes as wounds were re-opened and his sphincter stretched again.

The tongue retracted just shortly after entering, the demon growling at the taste of another monster inside his ordained prize. Pyramid Head growled and grabbed the boy's thighs, spreading them to nestle the helmet between, slicking his tongue back in.

"Haa-AH! STOP!" Chance yelled, pushing down with both hands at the helmet to no avail. "Fucking STOP…!"

Pyramid Head wrapped his tongue around what remained inside the boy, entangling it in his tongue, making Chance's body convulse with the feeling of his insides being churned.

"Gh-huu…!" the boy's eyes rolled back and he tensed, feeling the appendage and something…strange and slick, thick, leaving his insides.

The tongue withdrew, a thin membrane wrapped around it in coils-what had once been the artificial womb that had grown inside Chance's bowels. It disappeared under the helmet, the sick sound of slurping and munching following not long after. Chance shuddered in disgust, staring up at the muscular man-like demon on top of him.

Pyramid Head growled, tongue whipping out once more, this time covered in just the usual slimy saliva before disappearing under the helmet again.

Chance swallowed. Was it going to kill him now that it had gotten what it wanted? That he had let Billy escape…?

A snort and gush of air from beneath the shadows of the pyramid made Chance flinch. Pyramid Head uttered a low not-quite-but-close-enough-chuckle, taking the boy's left hand, pinning it above his head.

"Wh-wha-GYAAAH!" Chance screamed as he felt his hand suddenly burn, looking up to see Pyramid Head's tongue…

His eyes widened. The…it…!

"Hkk-!" Chance choked as he flinched, the tongue that had pierced through the palm of his hand writhing a little before removing itself, whipping around in the air before retreating to it's rightful place.

The boy panted, turning his head to the side and gritting his teeth, but his eyes were already dried out, no more tears would come despite the fact that he would be balling now.

Pyramid Head was satisfied, lifting his own left hand off the boy's wrist, Chance taking the opportunity to draw his hand down and hold it with his good hand, pressing on the wrist so as not to let the blood flow out too much.

Pyramid Head gripped the boy's hands with his scarred left hand, growling in warning. And Chance didn't…quite hear a voice. But…it was more of an inkling of a thought. A strange understanding between him and the monster, at that one very moment when their identical wounds touched.

Little did he know he was beginning to learn how to understand them the way they understood each other, the way Valtiel and Pyramid Head shared an equal, unheard path of communication. Primal in nature, but clear enough to express.

_The fates have given you to me, and that's how it should and is going to be. You are MINE._

"Get off me…" Chance said, voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Pyramid Head visibly tensed and jerked a little strangely, just like the first time Chance had encountered him before he grabbed the boy's hospital gown and yanked, pulling him under the shade of the pyramid. Chance gasped as he was met with…

...an unspeakable darkness.

It was black. Pure, pitch black under the helmet. He couldn't even see the floor from under it if he tried to peer down.

The shadow was…horrifying. Like all the light and goodness in the world had been eaten up, digested and vomited out only to be trampled on by heavy blood-stained boots. Chance was beginning to panic, breathing in a strange, metallic smell, the smell of blood with moisture of saliva-he knew very well, it was the creature's breath. But he couldn't see a thing! Where was he?! Where was the face he thought was under there?!

"AAAH!" Sharp needles sank into Chance's shoulder, deep, scraping against bone and tearing muscle. "AAA-YAAAH!"

It wouldn't surprise him if his arm would be useless after this.

"STO-Hh?!" Chance gasped in surprise, hearing his own voice echo in the recesses of the helmet.

He could suddenly feel a very heavy breathing, like that of a beast, the rush of air hot on his face. A strange, almost low-screech of a grunt against his shoulder.

Chance froze, feeling what he thought were needles, now realizing they met with a…leathery sort of, lips(?), against his bleeding shoulder-slowly, they made their way up to his neck, just barely keeping themselves from cutting skin with the blade-like surfaces they had.

_I am all you are ever going to have. This, is your punishment._

"Gh…" Chance choked his throat tightening and wanting to cry despite being completely dried out. "Uurh….hh…hic-…"

_Yes…you should cry. Knowing you have nothing else but me._

"…just die…" Chance said through gritted teeth. "I'm going…h-home…Ah?!"

Chance was abruptly yanked from the both of the Pyramid, a strong, muscular hand gripping his arm. He quickly took a glance at his shoulder and was a little relieved to see that it hadn't been close to being completely chewed off. The cuts were deep though. But the relief was short-lived as he was tossed back onto the mattress, his own landing causing pain to his insides as well as his shoulder and hand.

"FUCK!"

Pyramid Head stood, taking something from the corner of the room and dropping it in front of the mattress. A clang of metal made Chance look up to see the cans he had collected earlier and had dropped, still bundled up in his jacket, which was slightly opened now and the cans had spilled onto the floor.

Chance stared at the cans for a little bit before glancing up at the beast.

_You ARE home._

* * *

It'd been awhile now. There wasn't much to do since then. He couldn't run, he couldn't hide, he couldn't do anything but wait for the pain, deep inside his body to subside. Useless.

Chance stared up at the ceiling contemplatively, thinking about…everything.

Had he won against fate? Was it over? Why wasn't anything happening? Why wasn't that beast going away? How long had it been since he woke up in the diner with Kurtis…and the others…

Oh god…it'd been forever since he'd thought about his 'brothers'…the gang…how were they doing? Where where they? Where they alright? Had they been dragged into this nightmarish hell as well?

He wanted to see them.

The sound of the door wrenching open and shut made Chance's eyes flicker from the ceiling and to the direction of the noise. He didn't even bother looking, curling into a ball and facing away from the door. The monster could do it's business without him. He didn't want to know. Interestingly enough, he spied the disembodied skull that lay carelessly on the floor near the mattress he was on. He eyed the empty sockets, wondering how long that person had been there. Wondering if it was a humans' skull at all. Wondering…

"Gh-!" Chance gasped as his arm was gripped painfully and he was forcefully turned onto his stomach. "Ah-!"

Pyramid Head gazed down at the boy, a strong arm outstretched with that hand that held Chance's arm in a grip so vice. He only held Chance's arm for a second, before letting go, satisfied his prize wasn't dead yet. Chance tugged himself away, gathering himself into the corner of the mattress and glaring back at the creature.

"If you're going to kill me, just hurry up…" Chance said bitterly. "It's been four days since the sky's changed, and you're not going to get any help from me."

Chance wasn't stupid. He knew, memorizing the patterns of the events and the way things had changed around them…when the siren sounded and the sky went red was when he had to worry. It'd been happening less and less now.

"It's been days…give up." Chance said, though there was no expression in his voice, just the some, meaningless words. "I'm clearly not fit enough as a play-thing anymore. You got what you fucking wanted you sick piece of shit. Now just kill me."

Perhaps he was telling himself it was time he gave in.

Slowly, the recesses of fate that had brought this world through existence through the boy's being were slowly crawling up his spine, entwining him, corrupting him, sinking into his very soul and violating it's purity, much like his body had already been soiled.

Pyramid Head jerked his helmet up, as if seeming to sense something before, slowly turning back to look at the boy. Not even a moment later, he had turned his back to him and was already heading out the door. This puzzled Chance, but as long as he wasn't being bothered, he could care less now.

"Guess I'll just waste away then…" Chance grumbled, sitting up slightly, frowning when he felt his intestines slosh around inside him slightly.

It wouldn't surprise him if some of them were damaged or displaced now that he thought about it. Chance breathed in deep, feeling his bowels slide against each other a little loosely, not obviously, but enough for him to feel it, as he bent over and reached for a can on the floor. Blinking as he held it, he looked up, wondering where his flickblade went.

"Fuck…" Chance grimaced as he remembered the night Pyramid Head had taken him, the flickblade having been in his pants pocket.

Chance sighed again, getting ahold of himself and standing slowly, his tired legs feeling strange, having been unused for a few days. But he was glad they hadn't become completely useless. A little exercise would be good right about now, just to keep going.

He chuckled at the entertaining idea that maybe, maybe if he got better…he could just run away, like Billy did. Silently as he made his way to the heavy doors, he had hoped Billy had gotten home.

How wrong he was.

* * *

Chance stumbled onto the killing floor, at least, that's what he had decided to call it. On the table lay a fresh corpse, covered in tell-tale black ooze and flayed open like a carved carcass. Pyramid Head had been having his fill lately. Chance had learned that during his imprisonment as well, when the sky turned red, that's when the monster left to do his…whatever the fuck he was doing…

He picked up his torn pants, glad to have found them, even if they were covered in the blood and guts that eventually got on everything including himself, the longer you stayed in Silent Hill. The boy cringed as he reached into the pocket, holding her breath. He paused for a moment, and only released his breath in relief when he found the flickblade still there. Wrapping his fingers around it was such…a comforting feeling. A piece of home. Sanity, still there. His hopes began to rise. Not like having it would give him better chances in getting out of this insane place alive, but…it was nice.

He heard the door clank open, then the long creaaaaaak of it's weight being pushed open. Chance froze, clutching the flickblade to his chest tightly, knuckles turning almost as white as when they had gripped that dreaded flesh rope. The strides were long and powerful, the smock dragging against the bones and organs or pieces of what were left of said bodyparts, before soon Chance could feel the strange cold warmth that lay upon his bare back.

Shit. Just when he had convinced the creature he could no longer stand, let alone walk.

Chance's breathing escalated before he could control what he was doing, and before he knew it, he was breathing hard. Pyramid Head gazed at the shaking form before him, now made small, now made lithe, now made weak, now made soft, beaten down by the hell that was his own imagination, hijacked by Silent Hill and made real. A pathetic, pitiful, beautiful sight.

The mighty beast just stared down at his caught prey, his payment for service tot he fates and his shoulders almost shook with the most perverse joy. Sadistic. Corrupt. The demon reached out and grasped the boy by the hair, rough, unrelenting.

"URGH-!" Chance cried, with a hand around his flickblade, practiced instinct took over and his thumb shot out, causing the blade to fly out of it's resting place.

He swung wildly, managing to slice through his own hair. Luck was on his side to the fact that it had grown too long for his liking, and he didn't harm himself. He fell, Pyramid Head letting go of the now tensionless strands, letting them fall to the floor. Chance turned, staggering back, tired thighs still worse for wear, but he held the knife firm.

There was no exchange of gazes, just pure movement as Pyramid Head strode forward and used his strength to push the boy down against the metal slaughter table, a table Chance just had too unpleasant memories about to ever forget.

"Gh-!" he struck with the knife, the blade sinking into the dead flesh of his attacker.

Pyramid Head however still pushed the other down on the table, both hands going beside the boy's head. Chance was sprawled, back against the cold hard steel, the blade in his hand sunk to it's hilt into the monster's torso. His breath still hard, the only sound other than the turning of the fan.

Chance glares up at the helmet that was far too close to his face for his liking. A strange silence hung in the air. And for awhile, Chance thought he had gone deaf. It wouldn't have helped in the slightest either way. For some reason, Chance understood Pyramid Head's thoughts. He knew from simply feeling the vibe of the monster hunched over his entire being.

_Yes, be angry. Hate me. Loathe me. Drive all of your suffering as punishment into those who deserve it. Just like I. Hurt as you have been hurt._

"Shut up…" Chance was surprised at his own meek whisper.

_We're the same. Because I am a nightmare to each and every person, I am also yours. We are the same._

"SHUT UP!" Chance said, pulling the knife out and stabbing again, higher this time, closer to the heart, though he doubted the beast had one, and even if he did, he wouldn't die from something so simple.

_That's right…just like that. You are just like me, you are mine. And you will stay with me, forever. This, is your punishment._

Chance felt cold entering his being, a strange that gloom set over him. Something dark and malevolent, powerful and dreadful. True despair. And now, chance and fate for once, met in an uncanny, disgusting union. The very same feeling that overtook all of Pyramid Head's victims before their just deaths.

Chance yelped as Pyramid Head moved to push his knees up and apart, exposing his most private places to the hidden eyes under the helmet, if there were any, for the fourth…fifth…time?

A gasp of breath parted from the boy's open lips as he felt his insides stretched with a familiar, fullness, sphincter opening wide, body becoming psychotically masochistic, betraying Chance's mind and even gripping it, forcibly working to twist it into something he would never want it to be.

His body arched and tears fell from his eyes as the pain fed an unholy pleasure that he did not want to be accustomed with, but the fates that warped his very existence willed him to feel. His hand that still gripped the blade trembling with Pyramid Head's next powerful thrust, pushing his massive penis into the boy's tender body even further than it was buried in. The friction driving home to Chance's nerves, and he cried out in agony and yet a slight, sick pleasure was there.

"Aaa-hh…!" Chance's weak throat wrenched out the pitiful cry, as Pyramid Head retracted his hips, before driving himself right into the boy once more, Chance's abdomen building slightly from the flesh being forced to accommodate his size.

As much as Chance hated to admit it, the fleeting thought of his body getting used to the monster's intruding meat was undeniable. He cringed, disgusted with himself. He retracted the blade, and in one feeble attempt, aimed it at where Pyramid Head's heart-area and stabbed yet again.

This time, the monster froze and shuddered in pain, a low metallic groan of agony sounded from under the helmet. Chance gasped, staring in surprise, before Pyramid Head gripped the table by it's sides, his massive arms reaching the edges easily, and used it as leverage to drive his hips into the boy's ass even harder.

It was a miserable exchange.

Thrust. Stab. Thrust. Stab. Thrust. Stab. Thrust. Stab.

"Ghah…ahh…" Chance's eyes flickered as he finally let go of the blade, legs trembling and hips aching.

With a low growl, Pyramid Head angled himself and struck the boy's sensitive prostate. All at once, Chance's body reacted to the familiar burst of stimulation, and he arched, nipple brushing against hard abs as he screamed, eyes going wide.

"N-NOOO!" he cried, feeling the pain turn into masochistic euphoria.

The thrusts grew faster, more erratic, not quite desperate but excited, as the monster forced himself into Chance's tightness again, and again, and again, and again.

"Ah-! AH! Haa-AAH! AH! HAA!" Chance's yelps grew higher and higher in pitch, soaring as his senses were assaulted like the first time he had ever been taken in his life, by the same wretched executioner.

And suddenly, the beast removed himself from the boy, cock sliding out with a little 'pop'.

Chance lay there, trembling, twitching, eyes going dull. Slowly, his sense of self was dying. The boy he was was dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. And yet, a little spark of his rationality, his sanity remained, eyes never leaving the flickblade that was his last strand of hopeful memories of a sane past, embedded in the monster's chest.

His body cried, begged his mind for more. More pleasure, more of the painful filling of his inner self. It hungered in the most foreign, scary way, and he couldn't control it.

"Why…" Chance wheezed. "What are…you doing to me…?"

What was happening to him. The memories of his first rape were clear. He hated it. Loathed himself for falling into pleasure, but all the way, he was unwilling. Now…he wasn't so sure.

_You are mine._

Chance's eyes widened in shock as he heard the unvoiced sentence. Slowly, he began to understand. And this finally pushed him over the edge. And he cried.

"No!" He said, sobbing and using his good hand, balling it into a fist and striking at the monster's chest, right next to the knife. "No!"

Slowly…he was beginning to accept that fact, and the sadness from this realization is what made him finally give in to the urge to cry. Slowly…he was wanting it. And he hated that. Somehow…Pyramid Head was making him want it. Slowly…he was killing 'him'. Who he was. Who he wanted to be. And truly, making him his. He remembered his own words, those he had said to Billy before he let the boy escape. The fact that he could hear himself say them made himself snake lower into despair. 'I'm…already tainted...'

"I won't give in…" Chance cried, shutting his eyes, a weird feeling coming from his asshole, quivering, twitching, hungering for the flesh it had grown so used to. "I won't…G-MPH?!"

Pyramid Head's tongue had made it's way from it's place beneath the helmet and sharply struck, pushing itself into the boy's mouth. Chance gagged, the taste of blood and what was alike to vomit filling his mouth. He could feel the tears make their way from his eyes, down his cheeks to edge of his lips and onto the tongue now thrusting it's way in and out of his throat.

Then Pyramid Head's fingers entered his battered ass. "MPHH-! HMMPHH!"

Chance's eyes rolled up almost completely as the tips of the long, thick fingers rubbed against his prostate, teasing him. Enticing his body as much as his mind screamed in suffering. Pyramid Head removed his tongue, letting the boy cough and rasp for breath just enough, before forcing it back in again. Slowly, Chance's eyes grew darker. Deader.

_You are mine._

The fingers were removed, and the feeling of emptiness crept up Chance's spine. He whimpered when the tongue too, retracted itself, his own slicking out to give it one last lick as it left his mouth, blank eyes filled with warped lust staring at nothing.

"Ah-…" he breathed, neck lifting his head to chase after the retreating appendage with his own mouth. "Haa…aa….ahhh…"

A weak hand, with a wound mimicking Pyramid Head's own almost perfectly lifted to caress the tongue that teasingly hung there, suspended, like a snake outstretched from a branch. Chance whimpered, panting hard, own raging hard-on becoming unbearable.

"I…I-I…" he struggled, a little spark of his original self threatening to return to his eyes. "..nhah…"

Pyramid Head chuckled low. It was always more fun when his prey was hard to kill. He slicked his smooth, clammy tongue stiffening to edge into a kind of sharp point, drawing a thin line of red down the boy's chest, cutting through a sensitive nipple.

"Ha-..!" Chance threw his head back at the painful ecstasy the action stirred.

Slowly, the tongue toyed with the boy's nubs, pointed needle-think tip dipping into the teats, causing a little blood to emerge, retracting and twisting them individually until Chance couldn't take it anymore. The boy gripped the larger forms shoulders, groaning in desperation, no longer able to form words. But Pyramid Head was cruel, and he teased some more, tongue gliding down to the boy's navel, perching it with it's sharp tip enough to probably even stab into internal organs and his diaphragm. Chance yelled in a terror hat for some reason still couldn't warrant control over his own body. He wanted it to stop, he wanted more, he wanted it to end, he wanted it to go on forever, he wanted to die, he wanted to live, he wanted to be free, he wanted to be chained forever.

"Stop…" Chance panted, and Pyramid Head paused.

This was the deciding moment.

"Please…stop…" Chance begged, tears falling freely. "Stop….s-stop teasing…me…"

With that the beast straightened himself some, lifting the boy off the table enough to settle his massive bulk on it, sitting, the boy suspended, large hands at his small hips, above the thing's cock. Chance panted, knees finding support on the metal as the hands were let go, now kneeling directly over the hot, hard organ himself. A red blush of shame covered his cheeks. He was now in the one position he never wanted to be in, and sadly…he felt like…he liked it…

"Hh…hah…hah…" Chance breathed hard, looking down, the hard chest, wide and imposing almost pressing against his own, now weakened one.

Down below, he could see his own erection, standing proud and boastingly despite the great shame he felt because of it. And past it, he could see the purple, and in comparison enormous cockhead of the monster that had captured him, tempted him, and drew him in.

And to his own surprise, Chance found himself eagerly lowering his own pert ass onto the massive penis, without any force from the hands that removed themselves from his hips. He panted hard, finding difficulty just getting the head into himself and his eyes flickered pleadingly to the darkness under the helmet. A plead to stop. A plead to continue. A plead for sanity. A plead for madness. Pyramid Head's hands returned to the boy's hips and pushed him down completely, until he was fully sheathed inside.

"AAAHH!" Chance's head fell back and he gasped, body trembling as he continued to stare into the helmet fruitlessly searching for a face though he knew already there was only darkness…

Chance's hips snapped back up reflexively as reaction to the intruding pain of being pushed into beyond his limit, before his corrupt lust drew them back down, and back up, and down, up and down, fucking himself on the beast's phallus. Willingly. Unwillingly. He could feel the tip of it just below his ribcage, pushing all of his insides into places they belonged not. A feeling so..painful…wonderful…agonizing…pleasurable.

Pyramid Head groaned and panted slightly, never being strained for anything else but his sweet, rotten sex. Chance heard every grunt, every breath, encouraged. He could feel the penis inside him throbbing, his partner's hips twitching in attempt to refrain from thrusting. Chance noted it and moaned softly, leaning forward and resting his hands on the other's chest. The new position allowed the hot flesh inside him to strike his prostate every buck downwards.

"Ah…ahh…haa…ngghhh~…!" his voice trembled, "O-ohhh….! AH-…!"

Chance's thighs, already tired, were straining to keep moving, motoring his body up and down against Pyramid Head's. Without warning, Pyramid Head lurched forward, hands on the boy's hips, Chance's arms shooting out to wrap themselves around the other's neck instinctively. The position causing his thighs painfully, to spread even wider.

"WAH-!" he gasped, feeling the cock prod at his prostate relentlessly, pressing, abusing. "Haa-AH!"

Pyramid Head thrusted in and out, while Chance's legs wrapped themselves around the other's wide hips, bucking down to ride his thrusts. Chance's body twitched and shuddered violently with every thrust, cries turning pitched and passionate. The most unholy union of bodies.

"Ahh-! Haa-! AH! HA! AAH! I'M-!" and he knew the word, a natural installment into his primal memories, drawn up by the punisher. "I'M..AAH…C-CUMMING! I'M CUMMING!"

Chance arched back, pressing into Pyramid Head's body, the origins of life spurting from his own penis, his intestines tightening at an insane rate. He fell limp, cum still spilling from between his legs, dripping between his thighs and down onto the cock that was still driving itself into him, lubricating the tightening hole as it mixed with the transparent fluid already slicking the friction between them. But the tightness of the constricting ring of muscle, along with the sight of the boy's letting go and overflowing between both their own thighs pulled Pyramid Head himself over the edge. For a second, he was in saving nirvana.

The boy's eyes closed and he mewled, feeling the hot, acidic liquid fill his fucked-raw insides, spreading uncontrollably through his hips and up to his abdomen and lower chest, finally making it's way to leaking out his ass as Pyramid Head pulled out. Chance panted hard, then slowly, then shallowly and finally, he saw nothing but black.

Pyramid Head finally, truly claimed Chance.

* * *

**Yes, yes, yes, another little smutty for you guys since well...I've been MIA for a long time, so I thought eh...why not? XDD I can't tell you how good it feels to be free from my schoolwork now that I've got a break coming up! Hopefully, I'll be able to get some new cosplay ideas since Anime Festival Asia is over. It was a load of fun, even if I've got quite a few new stalkers now because of it...maybe next time I'll try a not-so-cutesy cosplay...ahahaha...**

**As always, if there's anything in particular you want to see to message me! (But don't worry I haven't forgotten about the suggestions already made to me.) And if you'd like to see my pikachu cosplay, I'm p4percake on deviantart!**

**Thanks always and reviews are well welcomes and encouraged,**

**JapFan04**


	17. Father, Mother, Brother!

**This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.**

**The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):**

**"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:**

**There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to ****_Silent Hill 2_**

**Mayan Escalante, senior artist of ****_Homecoming_****, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]**

**Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]**

**The BradyGames ****_Homecoming_**** strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]**

**The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]**

**Various interviews with developers [8][9]**

**Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."**

**Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..**

**Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.**

**Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.**

**Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.**

**There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:**

**"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.**

**Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'**

* * *

**So yes, I have returned! And this chapter is a real treat for all of you, do enjoy and tell me what you think, I've taken the whole 'children' thing into consideration, along with the whole Pyramid Head rage protection thing, but I've still to get to that. Aww fuck, it seems my author note skills are very rusty compared to when I'm writing seriusly. I don't really know what to say, derp. Anyways, enjoy! I love you all!**

* * *

A dry gasp. A desperate whimper. A powerful thrust. The sound of body's slapping together messily. Vision, forever blurring between the darkness of unconsciousness, and the delicious, tempting lure of intense fucking.

"Ah-haa! AH!"

Why…? Why did this happen…? What…

"N-nah! Mhh-…oh!"

What's happened…? Where…? Why was he here? Burning..

"AH-! H-hurts…! Please…! Ah-l-like that!"

His whole body was burning.

"Yes…th-there…! There! M-mo-AAH!"

A clumsy hand, cold from the dark, but hot from sex. It snaked, up, up, and around a strong, yet unseen neck, under a massive helmet.

"Haa-! Ah-! I-I…I'm gonna…!"

A low groan, a high-pitched cry. A hot white mess all over two immeasurably differently-sized bodies. A searing, acidic, black, eating heat inside the small, lithe one.

"N-Nooo…"

Why…?

"Haa…ah…why…" Chance gasped, hand slipping from it's place on Pyramid Head's neck, only to be caught by a larger one, clasped possessively, selfishly, painfully pressed against cold, bloody floor.

His vision, already blurring between his captor and darkness, now worsening as he felt weak.

"Why…me…" he whispered before once more, his world was plunged into darkness.

* * *

_"Witch…! Witch…!"_

_Alessa cried, covering her head from the shower of books and papers that came her way from her once fellow classmates. _

_Those who had once been her friends, betraying her, turning on her, scorning her, punishing her unjustly. In the corner, a girl with her face, only paler, with a pinkish sick tint around her eyes, hair that was stringy and thick in some places while thinner in others, stared at her. Watching. Waiting._

_She escaped, running into the halls of the school, a school that was know in ruins and shambles…for now, repaired, restored to it's former glory days. The days of The Order. Alessa ran, and ran, the voices, chasing her, judging her, taunting her, spitting at her._

_She ran into the bathroom, turning and locking the door behind her, on the brink of tears. The boy felt a cold chill run down his spine at the sight of the janitor. He knew. He knew!_

_He…he had to warn her! She had to get away! _

_But he had no mouth to speak. He had no feet to run with. No hands to hold with. No body, just…sentience. Useless sentience. But-! _

_There had to be a way!_

_"No!" the thought echoed through his head as the little girl screamed._

_He could only watch in terror as her innocence was taken her by the larger, filthy hands of the monster of a man, in that tiny, dirty, little bathroom stall. Her cries going unheard by choice of the children who knew well. Those who walked past just outside the locked door they had driven her into. Silent. Cruel._

_He screamed for help._

_"Someone! Please! Open the door! Save her!"_

_It went on for what seemed like forever. And he could do nothing. Nothing but watch. And he hated himself for it. So useless…he was always…so useless._

_Alessa sobbed in the arms of her mother, who could do nothing but comfort her, even as The Order plotted the innocent girl's murder. And he heard it all. He knew. And he could do nothing._

_"You know they only do this because you will not name the father…" a cruel, cold woman said._

_Alessa looked up, curious, scared as this woman conversed with her mother. In the distance, a group of school children playing nearby, giving her strange glances, judging, judging, always jugging. Unloving. Uncaring. Cruel. Evil._

_All but one._

_A blonde boy, with silvery-blue eyes. He too, was looking right at her. But he was…different. He was…sad. Alessa looked away quickly, embarrassed, violated, tainted._

_"Hey."_

_The voice made her look up in fright, only to find the boy holding a small daisy in his hand and smiling. Alessa quickly made her way behind her mother's skirts, peeking out slightly at him. The women conversing didn't seem to take heed. He was a little older than her, maybe two…three years?_

_"S-sorry…" the boy said shyly. "I…thought girls liked flowers…you-…little girls shouldn't be sad..." _

_He bit his lips, fumbling around for words._

_"You looked sad…don't be sad okay…?" he said sheepishly. "You're…little miss witch right?"_

_Alessa grew upset, taking the flower and throwing it onto the ground._

_"Ah-!" the boy gasped a little. "…s…sorry…I…"_

_She didn't look at him anymore._

_"…I thought it'd be…cool…" the boy said a little dejectedly, though, he smiled. "If you really were one…then you could be my little sister, and we could do magic together."_

_Alessa refused to look at him, but his words hit a pang in her heart and made her frown disappear. No, she didn't smile. But…she didn't feel so bad…_

_"Witches are bad…" Alessa said bitterly. _

_"Really?" the boy asked. "They eat kids who do bad things like…run away from home and stuff right…? So…if I'm a good kid, you won't eat me. That doesn't seem bad at all."_

_"Well…maybe witches aren't bad…but the bogeyman is bad." Alessa said, retaliating, but also…smiling a little bit, though she didn't lift her eyes._

_"Hmh…I remember that song…he also gets little kids who do bad things, right?" he said, trying to cheer her up. "If you're a witch, you and he can be friends, right? Then, he won't be so scary anymore."_

_She blinked and finally…finally, lifted her eyes. "…Hey…what…what's your name?"_

_He smiled. "There we go…if you smile a little, I'll tell you."_

_At that, the girl immediately grinned. A pretty, sweet little grin. The last grin she would ever make. _

_He laughed a little. "Well, little miss witch, name's Chance."_

_"I'm Alessa. Okay. I'll be your little sister." she smiled. "But you have to protect me, okay?"_

_"Okay. I'll do my best, my little witch." he patted her head, just as her mother finally took notice of him and snatched her away, hurriedly._

* * *

Chance's eyes flew open and he sat up. "GAH-!"

The cause of pain searing his backside was obvious. He cringed as he felt how slick and wet the floor around his ass was. The boy swallowed dryly, not daring to look as he looked around for his much-abused pants.

Was that…for real? Chance made his way on shaky legs to pick his pants up, frowning a little at the slick feeling between and behind his thighs and all over his butt-cheeks, streaming down the back of his shins. He couldn't wear these like this.

He ventured out of the room slowly, limping and scowling. Chance heard the now annoying screech of metal on metal as he knew the beast was probably back from yet another kill, and for another round, which, though the boy knew he could never manage, was inevitable either way. Resigned to yet another rough fit of bodies with the beast, he looked up lazily, dropping his pants in lack of care.

But the sight before him made his body run cold. Colder than when he found for the first time what Pyramid Head's sick pleasure was.

"B-Billy!" Chance screamed.

Billy hung, kicking at the helmet, the tips of his toes barely making contact with the metal with how small he was and how high he was being held.

"Put him down!" Chance choked out, throat still hoarse from all his cries, forgetting his bare-nakedness, he made haste to the monster.

Two now worn and feeble arms wrapped around the muscular bulk of a forearm that Pyramid Head held the Great Knife in.

"Stop! Don't!" Chance pleaded. "Don't do it!"

Pyramid Head paid the boy no attention as he lifted the knife and the boy, slowly, but surely off the ground as Chance still clung onto his forearm.

"AH-!" Chance's grip failed him, still too weak to support his own weight as he dropped to the ground. "Let him go! Stop it!"

Pyramid Head's helmet turned so that the pointed tip was directed right at Chance; had saved this victim for this very moment. For Chance to see. A voiceless thought passed from the punisher to his prisoner.

_All you will ever have, is me._

It had always been like this. Since the beginning, tugging on his mother's apron, unable to do anything else. Only now it was a such a pitiful reflection of how he used to in the past, hands grasping the smock around this monster's waist.

"Dont…!"

Always. He couldn't do anything but sit there and cry. Watching as everything was taken away from him. Alone…Not even allowed to hope. What was there to hope for?

If there was a chance for everything…there could always be a chance that despite everything…it really was futile.

Was his existence really just as a gateway…as some sort of sick tool for the manifestations of this insane town to come true? He didn't know. All the while fate had been laughing at him, sneering, mocking…only now-he could have sworn he could hear it.

And as Billy's dying screams echoed through the labyrinth, Chance's hands shook on the bloody smock and his entire body felt like it weighed like tons of lead. He sunk to the floor, eyes never leaving the furnace, hoping that maybe…if he stared long enough, hard enough in those hellish fires, stocked by his tormentor, he'd go blind. And he decided, if he ever did go blind, he couldn't see himself take out his knife and jam it into his ears so that he would be deaf as well. And if he was blind, and he was deaf, it was the same as being mute-he would never have to hear himself scream and beg for mercy, for death, for sanity. And everything would just be black and numb.

Pyramid Head grabbed the boy's chin, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, seeing the dark thoughts swim through the boy's eyes. Wonderful. Elegant.

Chance grimaced and turned his head away. "…I hate you…"

_Your guilt is what keeps you here with me. Everything is your fault, Chance._

"Shut up…" Chance said, voice trembling.

_Forgive yourself, first._

"I said, shut up! Get out of my head!" Chance said, shaking his own. "Get out!"

_You do not want forgiveness…you want judgement. And I have passed it over, and over, and over again. _

Chance lifted his fist to hit, but it was grabbed, and something strangely comforting was forced into the palm of his hand by the executioner.

_You are lonely. That is why…you want the company of punishment. My company. The company of your guilt._

Chance watched as his slowly opened his own hand to see the flick-blade he had driven into the monsters chest sometime ago. "Khh…"

He knew what happened to that little girl in the bathroom. And yet he was so…so useless, so foolish…clueless, only now coming to understand the full loss of her innocence. But all the while…his guilt for doing nothing was eating him alive. His body violated, just like hers once was.

Yet, the guilt was still there. Chaining him forever.

* * *

The days after that were short and uneventful. Other than the sky's blood-red bath of spilling organs and Pyramid's coming and going to kill and feast of the festering existences being slowly captured by the town to suffer for all eternity. It'd been a long time since Chance had seen another living human being. A long, long, long time.

What color was the sky originally again? It was always grey, grey, grey and red. Red and grey, grey and red. Blue? Impossible. It was always filled with clouds and fog and the stench of massacre.

Maybe…everything up to now was the dream after all. Maybe Ormia meant that…the life before this, the life in Centrailia, being with Curtis, John…hell, even moving out of Silent Hill…maybe it was something he'd conjured up to escape the hard reality of his imprisonment.

Perhaps…all this time…then…what…

"What am I?" He asked aloud, though his voice was nothing but a mere whisper.

He sensed the familiar presence and looked up with meek eyes, Pyramid Head standing strong and stout over him. Just sanding there. Waiting. And now, Chance understood. Slowly, he began to pick up little things. Not that anything else mattered anymore. The boy raised his hand, placing it on the smock and pulling himself up to a weak standing position, slightly slumped.

Pyramid Head's strong arm took the boy off his feet, carrying him in one arm so that he was sitting. Chance put the hand that had gripped the smock, against the collarbone of the larger being, eyeing his blackening nails and pale sunshine-starved skin, veins beginning to turn a dark blue hue. He couldn't even frown. He didn't ask. He didn't care what happened to him now. Everything was gone. What was there left for him to care about?

The punisher made his way up and out of the labyrinth, this time not needing to hinder the boy's vision. There was no longer any escape. Chance had already memorized each exit, each entrance, each wrong turn, each dead-end. Pyramid Head let him down at the exit to the school, which had been pried open such a long time ago with Chance's own worn hands, scars of the many splinters on his palms and fingers never really having faded away.

The boy stood there, looking out into the grey sky, as grey as his dull once-silvery-blue eyes.

A little girl, just barely eight in an old-style dress, dark blue with a white collar, stringy black hair on her ghostly face stood there. He stared at her, and he took her hand mindlessly. She led him into the deeper parts of the school, broken chairs and hanging lights, cables that no longer sparked with electricity. He didn't even ask. He didn't care.

She looked up at him and smiled, a horrible, mean smile. "I've always wanted a big brother."

His glazed eyes slowly wandered to hers, and when their gazes met, he almost remembered who to cry from the despair that suddenly struck his heart. "A…Alessa…"

It was almost a plea. Almost. But he couldn't utter anything more than her name.

The room was dark and the grey light just barely sifted through the old, dusty, boarded-up windows. And without noticing, the girl was gone, Chance's hand suddenly feeling empty and free. Why was he brought here? He stepped further into the room, slowly, slowly. One of the desks at the centre of it having a fresh mark of handprints, the only place where the dust was lifted off. Chance blinked, recognizing the handprints as Alessa's and making his way to the desk.

Curious fingers traced the edge of the desk at first, before they curled under it, lifting the wood that served as the both the desk and the lid to the compartment under it. The dust sifted off with a soft, fluttering sound to the floor, and he peered inside.

It was…him? A picture. A picture of him. A picture of him when he was younger. Playing, in the back-garden with his friends. Chance felt wave of nostalgia hit him as he could hear his dear friends laughter. And, like a puppet, he was being tugged along, dancing his way into the strings of emotional break-down, effortlessly pulled by the hands of fate, a prisoner. And just like that, he was…somewhere else.

* * *

He didn't quite realize when he was large enough. He didn't quite know why he was able. He didn't understand why the strange massive weapon looked so inviting. He merely reached out, and took it, his body shaping, forming from the mixed imaginations of not only his 'mother' but his 'prey'. Corrupting. Molding.

And he knew his prey well. In this place, where the archangel Valtiel had placed him. His rightful home. He merely took hold on his weapon and as he walked, he sensed it and turned his massive bulk, clad in a dark raincoat, breathing through a mask that aided his deformed face, damaged by the claws of his twin brother at their gestation. He saw him. The man.

A haggard face, scarred, weary and tried through time, framed by equally haggard brown hair and tired, brown eyes.

Murphy? The name seemed fitting. Yes. His prey…his prey!

The inherited genes from his father kicked in, and his own malice, his own thirst to jugde and punish caused the Otherworld to heed his power. And just like that, his prey was ensnared.

The floor under Murphy gave way, and the man fell through the red-tinted darkness and into the fates that had captured Chance.

* * *

A corridor? Yes, it was definitely some kind of corridor, but what made the boy eye the area around him so hesitantly, was that he didn't recognize it as being part of the labyrinth. Chance gasped briefly as heavy footsteps made the floor shake slightly. But only slightly.

His eyes widened a little with the familiarity of the pace and the weight of the steps. Was he somewhere in the labyrinth he didn't previously know about? If those steps were Pyramid Head, maybe he should try looking for him to at least ask as to where he was.

As the boy took his first step, he stopped and huffed briefly, looking at the floor. "…what've I come to…?"

Asking the beast for help? Really? As detestable as the idea was he shook his head, feeling his chest weigh heavy on the rest of his body.

"So…this is what he meant by punishment."

Becoming something pathetic. Useless. Hopeless. A mere play-thing to be kept and pushed around as the punisher pleased. Perhaps, this is what the executioner meant when he so eagerly bestowed his sentence. Shame, guilt and self-loathing set into his being, and he slowly made his way towards the familiar sound.

* * *

"Hey! Get outta there!"

Chance stopped at the sound. A voice?

"Come on!" This time, the voice was followed by the sound of kicking.

Yes! It was a man's voice! Chance's eyes widened at the possibility of the existence of another human being, here of all places. He quickly made his way towards the sound, his bare feet hitting the floor making little difference to the monastery he was trekking through. His existence, more benevolent than he knew.

The boy stopped at the corner, remembering to be careful, his instincts wanting to stay alive, despite his mind telling him that he wanted to die than be in this hell, held as prisoner, all the while, his heart knowing his punishment would not be lifted so easily. He peeked around the corner cautiously, blinking at the sight of a man, trying to pry or kick a door in. Black ooze was coming out from the crack at the bottom of the door.

"Uuh…!" Murphy cried as he held the bars on the window of the door. "Uh..P-Poor…little uh…Steven Skelter…ugh…"

What was he trying to do? Chance was about to take a step towards the man, but felt a sudden strange ominous feeling. No…not ominous…something more akin to…a sense of duty? An understanding? Yes, something like an understanding, that he should not interfere.

What? Here was a possible chance of him escaping, and he was just going to sit back and watch? He shook his head, trying to reason with himself and his corrupted soul that was slowly giving into the rot in his already tainted body.

But his senses seemed like they were sure. There was something about this man…something…wrong…he…he was a sinner.

As these thoughts came to Chance, though he could not see them for himself, his once vibrant silvery-blue eyes, not grey, were turning an even darker color. A dark, sickening yellow, an almost ill orange, the whites of his eyes going blood-shot, covered in red, angry veins.

"Sin…ner…si…nn…er…" Chance whispered slowly as he watched.

Meanwhile, Murphy continued his hopeless speech. "…even the chaplain..uh…won't forgive you…forever lies…huh…uh..your pleading cries…but…but Suzy knows you felt her! Shit! Uh…"

With the loss of memory of the rest of the verse, the man went back to desperately trying to open the door. The footers got closer, closer, and closer still. From where he was standing, Chance was able to see that there was a little boy, playing with a car or a truck of some sort, on the other side of the door.

The child was completely oblivious to the approaching menace behind him…a large, towering, hulking, menacing figure, clad in a long, head-to-foot, heavy black raincoat, face hidden by an eerie gas-mask, the heavy footsteps being amplified by thick rubber boots. The coat looked even heavier when Chance noticed that it was decorated with several chains, studs, and stitches, reminding him of another monster's in comparison: messily stitched up smock. The creature reached out towards the boy from the darkness, arms socked in thick rubber gloves.

Chance watched passively as the monster purposely moved in a slow, teasing manner, standing over the boy, waiting, like a lion licking it's lips before it rips the jugular of a lamb.

Murphy was furious at this point, and Chance smiled, seeing his desperation. The same, pathetic desperation, the same, sad attempt at struggle against his fate. Foolish.

"God, leave him alone, damnit!" Murphy swore, shaking the door by the bars.

As soon as the man spoke, a low grunt of a growl came from the towering figure, and he slowly dipped his right hand down, picking the boy up by his neck.

"NO!" Murphy screamed, stepping back to try and kick the door down once more. "Du-uh…Along with…your skin…splayed out from within…"

Chance's eyes flickered a little, something…inside, screaming at himself. Stop! This is wrong! Help him! What are you doing just standing there?!

Murphy shook the door once more. "Once the monster has his fun…! Oh god, CHARLIE!"

Chance gasped as he suddenly understood. He didn't know how or…why…but he knew. That little boy, was the man's son. Or at least…the spitting image of the man's son. Murphy…yes, that was this man's name…Murphy's pain was caused by the love he had for his son…

"Take heed…it's…it's not too late…mistakes needn't haunt you forever…" Murphy continued, though his voice was now tinged with despair, driving his shoulder into the wood of the door again and again.

What…what was that rhyme? It was…like the one Chance had been hearing since he had fallen into this pit of suffering. Only, different words…it was a light. A light out of the darkness. A counterpart to the song he had heard from his mother.

"He's just a kid, you son of a bitch!" Murphy yelled at the relentless monster.

The Bogeyman that held the boy by the neck sensed a change in the air, but calmly held his prey for a second more, before effectively snapping his neck with the single hand that held the boy. The child's legs stopped kicking, as the sound of splintering bone, mimicking the noise of a twig snapping, accompanied the untimely, and yet perfectly timed death.

The light was snuffed out, along with that life.

Chance looked at the man's feet, as the man looked at his own feet, shaking his head. They both sighed.

"Though you have regret…" Murphy continued, making the boy look up slowly.

The Bogeyman dropped the limb body onto the floor.

"You can't just forget…" Murphy said, almost in tears. "You alone decide your fate."

"That's a lie-…" Chance whispered, about to repeat himself, only loud enough for Murphy to hear.

The Bogeyman backed away, into the corner from where he came to shape and form from nothing but the darkness. Murphy wasn't looking up, but the Bogeyman didn't seem to be pining for his attention at all. Instead, he caught the gaze of the almost-bare, shivering boy, standing some distance behind him.

"Th-…" Chance stopped, eyeing the figure, his heart leaping a little, mysteriously.

As the Bogeyman stepped back slowly, just as jestingly as he had appeared and approached, he lifted a finger up to his gas-mask, where his lips would be, in a hushing motion. Chance stiffened, a long-forgotten feeling of fright mixed with fear, shooting up his spine. What was this familiar feeling? It felt the same as…when he had first met…him.

But before Chance could think, he heard the door unlocking and stepped back into the shadows himself, hiding from view, curious. He watched as Murphy entered the room, dejected, kneeling over the dead boy's body, a gentle hand, reaching out to cradle his head.

"Oh Charlie…" he said, sobbing. "I'm sorry…I…I'm so sorry…"

Chance's chest heaved as his breaths became heavy, his heart filled with so much emotion, overwhelmed after being to dulled and unfeeling for…such a long…long time.

"No…this…he isn't the one…don't hurt him…" Chance said bitterly. "He can't be…he…as a father…how could you possibly find fault in someone like that…"

Chance bit his lip as he felt hot tears fall onto the floor, knowing that…his own father never did love him. He jolted back, snapping his head up as he felt a little hand clasp his own. It was cold, unrelenting, yet gentle and comforting.

"…" Alessa looked at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes.

"Ah…" Chance sighed slowly, looking away from her to hide his tears. "…Alessa…"

As soon as he said her name, he was alone again. But not for long, as a heavy hand descended on his shoulder, making him jump with a start and whip around to find the large being with the gas mask gazing down at him. Chance swallowed hard, a sense at the back of his mind screaming for him to get away. But he just stood there, feet bolted to the ground, unable to move, and he could hardly breathe.

The meaning bulk of a creature breathed slowly, calmly, noisily through the mask before reaching out and grabbing the boy by the jaw and yanking him close.

"Aah!" Chance gasped, boy finally flying into a full panic, legs kicking.

The Bogeyman lowered his gaze, and in the shadow of the improper lightning, Chance got a ooh past the glare of the glass into those eyes. His own widened and he was struck with another feeling. A feeling that made his fear vanish and his body stop struggling, only now realizing, with his jaw being held, he didn't really feel much pain at all. Nostalgia.

"You…" He said, as the image of a grayish-skinned child with most of it's face ruined by it's sibling as they struggled against each other in Valtiel's grasp flashed into his mind.

This was one of those child-monsters he had…Chance still cringed at the thought, the way his body was almost torn in two, the way he was abused by that thick arm still bringing a pink tinge of shame to his cheeks. It was a memory he would have rather forgotten.

Just to be sure however, the curious beast pressed the smaller human against a nearby wall, Murphy seemingly unheeding of the noises they were making. Then Chance realized they weren't in the building he had seen this very same monster attack the little boy any longer. The place was dark and damp, with nothing but wall on every side. He was trapped, once more.

"W-wait!" Chance's eyes widened as he felt The Bogeyman's other hand slowly make it's way up his delicate pale body, fearing the same actions of the thing's 'father' would be instilled within this one as well.

But the hand did not entice the boy's body into submission, instead, it gripped tightly, painfully, torturingly on Chance's upper arm, so tight Chance feared bone would snap and he cried out. The grip increased in force slowly, until it was enough to bruise.

"Aaaah! GAAAH! STOP!" Chance struggled, gasping for air.

Then it was strong enough to tear into skin.

"YAAAAAAH!"

But that's where it stopped and released it's grip on the boy's screams. Yes, they were the same. The same screams The Bogeyman could withdraw from his earliest memories of existence. This boy was his 'mother'.

Upon realization, the deliberately slow-moving murderer now moved the same hand to gently caress the wounds he had inflicted on his birther. Chance's body trembled from the sting of having thick rubber gloves force their way through his skin enough to tear, he looked away, tears streaming down his face. He didn't know whether being tortured by this thing was worse than being violated by Pyramid Head everyday at this point. It seemed they were both equally cruel in their own right.

"L-let go…" Chance said weakly, and to his surprise To Bogeyman slowly, but surely let him back onto his feet.

Chance pressed his own back against the wall this time, free hand shooting to his fresh wounds. It had been quite awhile since he had been injured in any place that wasn't his insides. He almost forgot the pain of physical injury.

The Bogeyman uttered a low groan which was unreadable to Chance, but when he looked up at the beast, it's frightening gas mask was a mere two centimeters away from his nose. He was surprised but…there was a strange look in those eyes that made him not fear. Like…the understanding of a parent when a child does something they didn't quite understand was wrong. It was a strange feeling. And unpleasant reality.

The full realization that this was his 'son' in the most true of terms hit heavy on Chance, and he closed his eyes and dropped his head. The Bogeyman knew well of the boy's sins, being formed and fed within the other's sinful body. And he let a low, slow, menacing chuckle. Chance cringed.

A strong arm buckled Chance's knees and he was swiped into a powerful cradle against the thick raincoat. He grunted at the still obvious pain of his backside from The Bogeyman's predecessor's earlier activates with his abused-beyond-possible body.

And just like that, the darkness around them lifted into the ash grey sky Chance knew so well. A sky he had hated, a sky he learned to get used to. A sky he simply recognized now.

Admittedly, there was a strange, light feeling in The Bogeyman's chest upon finding his former host. Knowing very well the terror the boy felt upon being impregnated and merely smiling behind his mask with his disfigured face at the memory of feeling those very same hands that were supporting themselves on his massive frame had once tried to snuff the life out of him and his brother. Amusing. It was something to be shared.

* * *

Blood. Blood everywhere. That's how things should be. Paint everything beautiful with red. Decorate it with guts and gore. It was something instilled into his being. Something he knew he inherited from whatever formed his massive, hulking, strong being. He needed to make everything beautiful. To make the air pure with the smell of rot. It was his duty, and he enjoyed it thoroughly. Much, much too thoroughly.

_Oh Travis, won't you come in for some fun? Watch._

The Butcher lifted a Faceless Nurse as it trembled in fear for what was about to come. Though he could not grin, for his sibling had torn off his face fear too early in his existence to care, he felt like he indeed, was grinning. There was something inside him that sensed a strange fear in all the female monster had encountered. A fear not of the oncoming blade, but of a different kind of abuse. A strange fear he had come to thrive on and exploit.

Little did he know it was because of Pyramid Head these creatures had such fear, the fear of violation. But what The Butcher did understand, was where this fear stemmed from. And that, he wanted.

Violently, he plunged his Great Cleaver into the Nurse's stomach, right at the womb. Oh yes, he knew body-parts quite well. After all, he was a butcher, and they took pride in their work. Much pride indeed. With a terrible shriek the Nurse shook violently, but the grip on her neck was strong and he could not get away, the pain seeping into her insides like wildfire. Then with a malicious yank, the Butcher split the wound open between her legs, before carelessly dropper her onto the floor. Another masterpiece.

But there was just something…lacking in his work. Something he couldn't quite master. Sure, the fear was there, driven into his victims like so many nails into a coffin. The brutality was perfect-just like his 'father's', but the true wrenching and ripping of dignity from the very being of his victims was not. And it was something he would never know why he could never achieve.

A mirror image of his predecessor's sheer malicious violence and rage, and yet a branch of it, much like his sibling The Bogeyman, who in contrast mirrored Pyramid Head's slow, deliberate, menacing sadism. They were perfect in their imperfections. But they had a lot to learn.

The Butcher roared at his kill, turning just enough to scare Travis away and almost laughing at the man's fear and disgust. How could he find such a beautiful sight disgusting? Humans. They were all so…weak. And yet…so much fun to destroy. Monsters were a treat to murder and dismember of course, but there was nothing that beat the satisfaction of bringing down and ripping apart real, human flesh.

It was a delicacy he had come to understand through inheritance.

Cold and unrelenting, he plunged his already soiled hands into the sliced wound of the Nurse, pulling and pulling and pulling flaying open her skin and flesh for her most precious insides to be exposed. But he was a professional in his occupation, and used his grown claws, sharpened through development and kept on edge through the use of his own cleaver to snatch them against each other, forever perfecting their cut. They sliced through the meat expertly, removing all the vital organs in one piece…well, as much as 'one-piece' as they were after brutally cutting into them.

The removal was truly a work of art, something only a perfectionist could do. Other than the fact that the organs had been cut through, the dismemberment was clean and almost surgical. He ventured out, movement smooth and calm unlike his father's, and hung the Nurse out the front of his shop, a trophy on display. A habit he could not help.

The Butcher's calm movements stopped altogether as he sensed a change in the air. He grunted.

* * *

Chance's heavy eyelids opened as he found himself splayed out in the middle of the road, ash-grey show covering everything round him, and falling still. Falling, falling, falling, forever falling. Much like him. The Bogeyman was nowhere to be found, and he found himself once again, alone.

It was warm, oddly so. But his body was the one emanating the cold, the thin amount of light coming through the thick sheen clouds now foreign to his dark-adjusted body. He panted, thinking he could break out in a sweat anytime if he didn't find shade from the evil sunlight.

Chance staggered towards the nearest building he saw and entered through the backdoor. It was cold and dark, the artificial light giving off no warmth. He sighed and smiled, welcoming the cold like a rabbit ducking into the cool of it's burrow.

But the relief was short-lived, as he felt a strong, clawed hand grasp at his much-too-often-abused throat, slamming him onto a freezing-cold, metallic surface. Chance's eyes widened as he looked up, expecting to find Pyramid Head, enraged at his sudden disappearance, instead coming face-to-face with…a featureless head, with nothing more than a deep hole where the ear should be, and it eerily resembled another monster he knew of: Valtiel.

However, this was not said architect, he was far too big and cumbersome, far too violent and angry. Chance gasped for what little breath he could, struggling with his weakened arms and legs, kicking the strange and frightening monster in the chest. The resemblance was eerily close however, the blood and gore-stained apron, the strange metallic mask on the left side of the creature, covering even it's shoulder, the giant cleaver-

"AAH!" Chance shut his eyes as he saw the massive oversized piece of cutlery raise above the monster's head and come down towards him swiftly.

The pain did not come. There was no sound of flesh being sliced and bones being cut. Chance's breathing was heavy, and his heart was pounding ten thousand times faster than when he was being held captive by The Bogeyman. He didn't dare open his eyes, though he felt no movement.

It took a few moments for him to realize that he did indeed feel something. And that something was the quick, deep breaths of his attacker. Then, and only then, did he dare open his eyes.

Upon doing so, he was shocked to find a strange, demonic eye, peering from the very minuscule opening in the metal that was the creature's mask, staring right at him, right into his soul. He shuddered, turning his head away in fear.

Yet, something beckoned him not be afraid. Despite the fact that the cleaver was still in the creature's mighty grip, despite the fact that it's other hand was still at his neck even if it had loosened enough to let him breathe, despite the fact that the creature was now slowly grunting, spewing rotten breath into his face, something told him not to fear.

Deep in his heart though, he was still very much afraid.

Slowly, determined, The Butcher held Chance down by the chest, he swung the Great Cleaver, embedding it into a nearby wooden block, the movement making Chance cringe, imagining what that same cleaver could have done to him. But the boy didn't have much time to think about that as he felt cold, blood-stained, rusted metal pressing into his stomach roughly. He yelped, but dare not do much else.

Now the butcher understood his obsession with reproductive organs. He had found it. He had found his own 'home'. Pressing his almost non-existent nose into the boy's abdomen, he could smell it. Home.

With a quick, focused movement, The Butcher swiped a nearby knife off the counter, pawning it in his hand. Chance stiffened.

"W-wait!" He cried.

Ah, that voice. Yes, he remembered those sweet screams of pain. Screams he tried to imitate in his victims, over and over, and over again. Screams he learned to covet, to become obsessed with. Screams he wanted to hear again. Once more.

"Hh?!" Chance's hands shot to the other's wrist as he felt cold metal piece his skin, right at the abdomen. "H-AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The cut was not deep, but it was long and drawn out. Sweet heaven in the sound of the pained shriek. Music divine. Again. He needed to hear it again.

"AAAAAAAAAAH! HA-AAAH!" Chance writhed in pain as the Butcher made another incision, across the first one, making the shape of an 'x', where his treasured home was, the points meeting right at the navel.

Chance feared for his life once more, but The Butcher had other plans. Dropping the knife, the creature now leaned forward, pressing his face into the cuts, painfully so.

"Nggh-!" Chance felt hot tears prickle his eyes as he cringed, biting his lip against the pain.

He was suddenly lifted up and off the slaughter table, driven against a metal cabinet containing plates and cutting-boards of all kinds, the collision causing yet another yell to be ripped from his throat. Plates fell and shattered in the floor, the metal cabinet wracking noisily against the wall. The Butcher's hands cradled his ass, pressing his face into the bleeding X on the boy's stomach.

The blood flowed into the narrow cut of the helmet, and hidden behind a layer of rusting metal, The Butcher drank it eagerly. A taste of 'mother'. A taste he had longed for.

Chance panted heavily, feeling the rough rusted metal scrape against his wounds, probably causing infection. His hands feebly clawed into the monster's back and shoulder, trying to use it as leverage to get away from the pressing nose, but trapped between the cabinet and the massive hulk of what he now realized was his second 'son', it was impossible.

The Butcher suddenly cried as a rolling pin was thrown roughly into the back of his head. He dropped the boy in a rage and spun around to confront whoever interrupt his quality time with mother.

Valtiel scurried across the ceiling away from the two, hanging low enough to be seen, and it was obvious he had been the culprit. Apologies unheard of in such a place between monsters, he couldn't very well have Chance's own offspring accidentally end his miserable existence. Oh no. The boy was still of much use.

The Butcher grunted and growled, grabbing his Great Cleaver, when Valtiel had angered him he knew well...confrontation was unavoidable.

* * *

**So there you are~! Cliffy~! Ohohohoho...I wanted this to be more canon than my previous chapters, now you can see everything falling into place. I hope each of you reading this had a little 'Oh my god!' epiphany whilst reading this. I'm off to Philippines tonight, so I'll be on a plane, and most likely be in a place where the internet might be impossible. Sorry if this was short than other chapters, but I don't really pay attention to word-count so I wouldn't know.**

**Sorry to say I am also unaware of the next time I shall have the honor of logging in and posting again, so I tried my best to make this chapter enjoyable, even in PH wasn't in it as much, but fear not! He shall be making another cameo on the next~! **

**As always, do tell me what you think, reviews, even from the same people over and over again are always welcome, and I do love reading them when I'm feeling a little dry with my writing. It really is what motivates me, so keep posting!**

**Love,**

**Japfan04**


	18. Hate

**This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.**

**The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):**

**"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:**

**There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to ****_Silent Hill 2_**

**Mayan Escalante, senior artist of ****_Homecoming_****, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]**

**Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]**

**The BradyGames ****_Homecoming_**** strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]**

**The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]**

**Various interviews with developers [8][9]**

**Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."**

**Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..**

**Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.**

**Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.**

**Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.**

**There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:**

**"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.**

**Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'**

* * *

**Hey all~! Yes, it's me again! Sorry about not having internets up until now, but here's a little snack for you all! Enjoy~!**

* * *

Valtiel's long arms hung low to the ground as he hunched, ready, face directed at The Butcher, who growled and widened his stance and lurching forward just enough to reply to the challenge he was presented with.

Chance took the opportunity to get to his feet and stagger backwards until the small of his back collided with heavy studded rubber. He gasped and looked up, the top of his head pressing against the same texture. The Bogeyman almost at once put a finger to the boy's lips, the appendage remaining there for a couple of seconds before slowly it was withdrawn.

Valtiel's interruption was meant as just a small warning to ward off The Butcher's bloodthirsty tendencies, although like his father he was violent and perfect in his slaughter and rage, he lacked the calculating and calm, sadistic patience the same aforementioned monster possessed. These, were characteristics instead bestowed onto his sibling, The Bogeyman.

Chance swallowed hard, knowing very well the situation he was in. Despite the fact that The Butcher's full rage was directed towards Valtiel, and The Bogeyman didn't seem to be interested in torturing him more than necessary, it didn't change the fact that he was with three incredibly dangerous demons in one small kitchen.

The boy gave a slight start when The Butcher finally lunged at the architect with his Great Cleaver, anger overtaking common sense, which, the creature didn't have much of to begin with. Valtiel simply jumped his way back up to the ceiling, and despite looking more lithe, he was pretty much almost the same size as the two sibling monsters. He used this to his advantage as he dropped back down from the ceiling onto The Butcher, the weight of his being making the latter stumble slightly.

Big he was, but as graceful as Pyramid Head he was not, and The Butcher knocked over some of his own cutlery sets in the misstep. This of course, only engirded him more. And like a catalyst, the rage, being his ally also sharpened his senses, his mind, making him more lethal. More insane. More dangerous.

He threw the Great Cleaver at Valtiel, whom, barely thanks to his quick reflexes didn't lose an arm. The Butcher cried out low, like the bellow of a lion, cracking his neck in order to loosen the rest of his body for combat. It had been a long time since he had a good work-out.

Chance was torn between getting away and…to his shock, making sure Valtiel didn't kill The Butcher in their little spat. He shook his head at the strange maternal instinct that he knew was not natural. An instinct he knew very well was from the rot invading his very being. The infection Pyramid had fed him over and over and over again. Sinfully. Forcefully.

But what was he to do? Tell them to stop? Just picturing the situation if he were to comply to this wish seemed laughable. Monsters. That's what they were and always would be. They wouldn't listen to him. he shouldn't even be caring whether or not they killed each other off or tore each other apart. And yet, there he was, flabbergasted.

"Mnghhrrhh…" The Bogeyman growled.

Chance flinched as he looked up at the strange sound, the large arm suddenly protectively coiling itself around his much, much smaller frame. It was only after he was pulled back into the shadows did he sense it, the familiar foreboding, the churning of his stomach and the need to puke. A presence so strong and mighty he could not deny…

* * *

Pyramid Head growled as he heard that echo of a scream he knew so well. He breathed in the scent, and smelled fear only growing more annoyed and angry. He was the only one allowed to instill fear in the human whose voice that belonged to. That was how it had been decided, and Pyramid Head was going to make sure it was kept that way.

The door to the butcher shop was nothing compared to his massive strength, and he wrench it open and threw it into the shop, metallic bellowing the only warning the Butcher ever got before the unarmored side of his head collided with the door.

Pyramid Head was on The Butcher before Chance had a chance to blink. The two massive bodies collided, Pyramid Head, with his helmet weighing down on The Butcher, who in retaliation, grabbed Valtiel's shin in the tumble and flung it right into Pyramid Head's helmet. It tilted, in turn digging into The Butcher's shoulder, the screeching, growling, bellowing and clanging of kitchenware was like a cacophony of chaos.

The Bogeyman stood firm, arm still curled around Chance, who felt a strange feeling yank at his chest, seeing the maelstrom of violence and pure rage.

"Stop! Wait!" He cried, trying to pry himself away from the steel grip.

The Butcher, very much angered from the pain inflicted on him, flung Valtiel into the wall. Luckily, the archangel-mockery of a beast's reflexes saved it from such a bad collision, a little twist in his frame allowing him to land on his arms and legs. He shook his head wildly, spazzing in disapproval and annoyance. the clash of monsters, out of control of both fate and chance, a spark of unpredictability that was enough to draw Chance deeper into the destiny ordained for him.

And without knowing it, he willingly accepted the existence of these four beasts as part of his reality, his life.

Pyramid Head slammed his triangular metal into the Butcher's forehead, he friction of metal on metal sparking and making a tooth-grinding screech that would drive anyone mad. Chance cringed at the sound.

"ENOUGH!" he cried.

The Butcher wielded his piece of cutlery, The Great Cleaver chopping halfway into Pyramid Head's arm, slicing through flesh and embedding itself in bone. The air was tense, and only sparked with increased excitement and fire. Pyramid Head snapped up in agony, low metallic cry still as menacing as his angered one. The Butcher huffed and yanked his Cleaver out of the arm-his mistake.

But fate needed all it's monstrous creations in one piece…that, the architect knew.

Valtiel pounced on him from behind, The Butcher losing his balance and stumbling forward, before rearing up and trying to yank Valtiel off. Valtiel ducked as a giant hand made a grab for his neck, just as several knives were suddenly launched into The Butcher's chest and shoulder.

Pyramid Head's aim was true, and all the knives made their way into the unprotected shoulder of his 'son'. It was now The Butcher's turn to cry in pain as he stumbled back. But he soon found himself pressed between the floor and Pyramid Head's great weight under the executioner's blood-stained boots. There was no mercy.

The other lowered his pyramid helmet, gazing down at his offspring and breathing in slowly, menacingly, a sound Chance realized The Bogeyman who was holding him now mimicked so well.

"GRRRGHGH….RRAAAAARRGHHH!" The Butcher thrashed wildly, claws hands digging into the boot and pricking the skin underneath.

The boot was lifted, and Pyramid Head stomped down hard, embedding the knife past the hilt into The Butcher's shoulder.

"GGRRAUUUUURREEERRRGH!"

The sound was almost human in it's sad, pained nature. Chance gripped the arm around his torso, swallowing hard as he watched. The Bogeyman stiffened suddenly, more so than he usually was.

"Ah?" Chance looked up at him. "What…what's wrong…?"

Suddenly he felt the heavy cloak of darkness that seemed to have kept them hidden so well lifted. A cold chill ran down his spine, and slowly, the boy turned his head back at the scene. There stood Pyramid Head, helmet's point, directed right at them. Chance's eyes widened at this, feeling a fierce sting in what he knew was a glare, coming from the other side of that thick oxidized steel.

Pyramid Head lifted his foot off his adversary and fellow creature, his spawn, turning his attention fully towards the two in the corner. Though his bulk was massive, it was deceptive, and in the small space of a kitchen, within a single stride he had wrapped his hand around The Bogeyman's neck, lifting him off the ground, a cruel reflection of what The Bogeyman had done to Charlie just a few minutes ago.

"Waaah!" Chance cried as he was lifted into the air along with The Bogeyman, the creature's grip still loyally clinging into his body. "Wait! Stop! Enough! ENOUGH!"

Pyramid Head cocked his head to the side, though ignoring Chance, seeming to consider something. In the background, Valtiel was busy prying the embedded knife out of The Butcher's chest as the latter lie motionless. Chance didn't know whether it was because he was dead, unconscious, or just too tired to move or care at all.

Pyramid Head flung The Bogeyman, though it took quite a bit of effort, considering their similar size, throwing him right into Valtiel. The flung monster let his locked arm go, dropping Chance onto the floor before he was sent flying.

"Guh-!" Chance curled up into a ball before he coughed, trembling slightly from having landed on his knees unpleasantly.

He gasped as he felt the back of his neck grabbed and he was lifted into his feet swiftly, forced onto the slaughter table and held down, arms restricted up above his head, and the wide waist of Pyramid Head to keep his thighs apart. No matter how many times he had been like this, the flame of embarrassment still spread along his cheeks as if they were dry parched forest.

The act of inspection was so demeaning, the executioner pulling on Chance's strings like he was a puppet, drinking in his shame and shyness, his anger at his own self for being so weak. Pyramid Head said nothing as he slide his free hand down the x-slash on the other's torso.

"Hh…w-wait…it…it hur-AAAAAAAKH-!" Chance cried and tried to push himself into the metal of the slaughter table, the cold doing nothing to make him want to vanish into it less, as Pyramid Head's hands clawed into the wounds, opening them, making them wider, making them more painful.

_I'm going to end this._

Chance's eyes flickered to the helmet pleadingly, understanding exactly what that meant. He trembled even harder now, staring up into the cold mask of death. And suddenly, he didn't want to die. Struck with fear, he couldn't even utter a word.

The smell. So strong. So right. Only for him. Pyramid Head drew in long, slow breaths. Savoring everything. He took a while to take it in before snapping his attention back tot he trembling form, a long tendril of a tongue slipping from under the helmet. Slick. Disgusting.

"Ghh-…" Chance turned his head away as it slicked up the blood from his openings and up to his cheek.

He knew Pyramid Head enjoyed reminding him of his weakness. It was a sick pleasure, thick in cruelty, and oozing in malice, accompanied by the driving madness that was Silent Hill.

All too suddenly, Valtiels body landed atop Chance, facing Pyramid Head, his head and arms jerking violently. Pyramid Head roared and used his arm to smack the other away, The Butcher coming from behind, revived by the archangel's healing, The Great Cleaver now making a direct course for Pyramid Head's shoulder-blade. But the executioner, more finessed, sensed such malice and turned suddenly, force from his head making the point of the helmet slam right into the cleaver, making the blunt side of the steel strike The Butcher right between his non-existent eyes.

"Ah-!" Chance shut his eyes as he saw The Bogeyman approach.

A strong, determined gripped set in on Pyramid Head's other hand, the one wrapped around Chance's wrists. Pyramid Head turned towards his prey once more. The Bogeyman and Pyramid Head locked gazes.

Chance was breathing hard, staring at Pyramid Head, then back at The Bogeyman, then back at Pyramid Head. 'Enough' came to his mind yet again, but becoming a parrot was something Chance didn't want of himself, especially if the cause was to be trapped in this godforsaken place. He was not going to wind up a pile of brainwashed mush…

…if only.

Pyramid Head growled low, and The Bogeyman slowly loosened his grip on his 'father's' hand. Almost at once Chance found himself pressed against a hard, bare, scarred, blood-stained and iron-fragrant chest. The grip of the arm around him, pressing against both his shoulders and the back of his head was near-crushing. But it was not even in Pyramid Head's vocabulary to be gentle, not much understand what it meant to be so.

The Bogeyman stared on, but after a few moments, he seemed satisfied, and lowered his gaze respectfully. The Butcher grunted and made a spitting motion, before a drop of blood with unknown origin splattered into the floor.

Silently, swiftly, Valtiel crawled his way up to the ceiling, and made a way for the door. But not before a knife narrowly missed the side of his head, making him pause and dangle himself just enough to notice Pyramid Head's outstretched arm in position of after the throw.

Chance's head was spinning. There was so much and yet so little he could say to express anything he was feeling. Confusion. Relief. Anger. Guilt.

And yet somehow, Chance knew that Pyramid Head was well aware…these two were his. Just as there was a cam before the storm, there was always a calm after the storm. Although the waves still roared violently in protest of the silence, and the sky still hung grey with no gulls flying, the worst had passed. Only painful reminders remained.

A scar.

A wound.

The smell of fresh blood.

Slowly, The Butcher and The Bogeyman strode towards the slaughter table. With Pyramid Head holding his rightful place, they formed a tingle around the boy, staring him down. Chance shivered when he realized this, wanting once more to slink into the darkness.

He didn't need the light…

It only exposed more. It showed weakness. It showed shame. It wasn't…for him…

The boy didn't realize his own state as shadowed thoughts lingered in his mind. Darkened eyes that were a grayish-black at the sclera, and bright metallic silver at his corneas. He shut his eyes to the dim light of the kitchen, turning away just as each beast slowly but surely reached out a massive hand to him. Then everything changed.

* * *

"Who are you?" Chance asked.

The young woman, elegant and yet menacing, hair all black, blowing in her face from the dark winds. Cross-legged she sat on a giant skeletonic hand. She smiled, glowing golden eyes with greyish-red sclera widening. A victorious aura about her. Alessa stood at her side, smiling. Happy.

But the elegant woman wasn't really a woman. Not anymore, either way. From her perch she let a dainty, pale hand with black nails outstretch itself towards the boy. Those pert grey lips parted as she replied.

"Fate."

* * *

Chance found himself standing in a dark chamber. There was rusting blood all over the walls. Bones laid strewn on the floor, and it smelled of both death, rot and feces. Undeniably, one of Pyramid Head's prisoner rooms Chance had discovered over the long weeks he had been living in the Labyrinth.

Then, he felt it. That foreboding presence. Strong and powerful. Flawless in his judgement.

_Do you hate me?_

"…" Chance swallowed, looking at his own filthy feet, nails grown long and chipped. "…fuck off."

_Why do you hate me?_

The boy stiffened. "You took everything away from me!"

_Did I really?_

Chance spun around, fury gripping at his veins. "I SAID FUCK OFF-!"

_Was it really me, who stole your life away from you, boy?_

Pyramid Head, towering over the smaller being, tilted his helmet slightly upward, before raising an arm to point behind Chance. In turn, Chance only glared, but curiosity is a powerful thing, and Chance turned back, eyes following the arch of the arm to where it finally pointed with a finger, to the darkest corner of the room. There, huddled in the corner, cowering, blinded by fear as Chance was cloaked and hidden by darkness…was his father.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

Chance's body trembled in rage as he realized who's fault this all was. Who really was to blame for all he had been through. Who prevented him from acting upon his own, right judgement! This fool! This idiot! This murderer of his beloved mother. A father who didn't love his son! A father who understood NOTHING! THIS..THIS WAS ALL HIS FAULT!

"YOU!" There was no hesitation in his stride, full of rage.

Hayden Fitch looked up from his knees, the long days of being stuck in darkness, cursing, wishing nothing more than the light suddenly all jolting back into his memory. Suddenly over. Suddenly meaningless.

"Ch-chance…? Son…?" Mr. Fitch's lips parted in a deranged smile, begin hands desperately trying to grasp something, anything of his offspring. "Son…! SON!"

Chance backed away in disgust. "…your son…?"

"Ahahah! Ahahaahaha!" The man cackled, overjoyed and yet mad. "Help me! Help me leave! Let's leave!"

"Leave…?" Chance whispered. "Why…?"

"We can leave!" Mr. Fitch screamed. "We can leave and and start over! There's life out there, son!"

"Life…? What…" Chance's eyes widened, and his sclera darkened into the murky grey, silver shining bright with malice. "WHAT LIFE?!"

His hand dove into his pants pocket, fingers closing around his trusty flickblade.

He couldn't live the life he wanted. He didn't get to choose to whom he as born to and where he would live. There wasn't even a single chance given to him. Chance? Hah! What a pathetic excuse of a name…lies. All of them just…sick and twisted lies.

Chance lifted the knife and plunged it deep into his father's eye socket, a satisfying pop and scream filling the air of the chamber. Chance's dull eyes didn't even waver. He lifted the knife again.

….hate.

_"AAAAAAAH!"_

Hate.

_"GUAAAAAHHHHH!"_

HATE.

_"AAAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAHHH!"_

HATE!

_"GHH-uurghh..GUH-!"_

HAAATE!

_"Hckh-! Blurhgh-!"_

HAAAAATE!

_"….."_

With every echo of the word that could only just barely describe a mere fraction of the feeling that was resonating throughout his entire being, he stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed.

"Die…!" he screamed, stabbing again and again. "Die…! Die…! DIE…! DIE…! DIEEE…!"

A scream that sounded like the cry of a wild animal.

"DIEEE! DIEE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

_Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat._

Soon, blood coated the floor, along with brain matter and the soupy fluid of what used to be an eyeball. Chance panted, staring at the gaping hole of a socket in his father's face. Chance panted, not knowing that his gritted teeth looked more like a pair of fangs. His shoulders trembled, but he did not cry. He smiled a little, chuckling softly.

_Fate smiled from her far-away paradise. "Now…you're ready."_

* * *

**Hey ho~! I'm at the beach! And sadly I wont have internet access for very long after I post this chapter! But I am trying my best to write a beautiful sequel to this. Sadly though, I am running out of ideas, and the poem is at it's last two stanzas, so…this series really might be coming to an end soon… D:**

**Thank you so much for everyone who's been reading this. I hope you guys will follow any story about SIlent Hill I might write next. I do love this franchise, and I'm just fucking DYING to see Silent Hill 2 the movie! They feature our super sexy Pyramid Head so much more than in the first movie! **

**And maybe...maaaayyybe if I get 55 reviews I'll find a beautiful, creative, none-cheesy way to maybe extent the story a liiiiiitle bit more?**

**Love,**

**JapFan04**


	19. Fate's Victory

**This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.**

**The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):**

**"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:**

**There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to ****_Silent Hill 2_**

**Mayan Escalante, senior artist of ****_Homecoming_****, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]**

**Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]**

**The BradyGames ****_Homecoming_**** strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]**

**The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]**

**Various interviews with developers [8][9]**

**Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."**

**Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..**

**Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.**

**Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.**

**Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.**

**There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:**

**"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.**

**Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'**

* * *

**So it took a little while. I've been lacking inspiration for a bit for this cause I've been trying to get my novel done this year. I'm considering shortening it so it'll be an easier read. A lot of my friends don't like to read really really long things and my target audience are younger people so…I dunno. I just want to get the story straightened out enough to have a manga made without having to fumble with the plot.**

**Love always,**

**JapFan04**

**PS: Alright. Since you guys wanted an extension of this, I'll do my best to not make it crappy. Please bear with me~! I…am guilty for inserting some of my own original plot of my novel into this but worry not! It's not gonna get mushy or anything. Just…I'm hoping this'll help me make a sequel, hopefully with a little bit of Chance getting into a slight suggestive relationship with another one of my OC's. Since I couldn't decide whether or not to have him pair with a male or a female OC, I've put both in for you lovely reviewers of mine to pick. Now I know we can't take forever to decide, so it'll be a best out of 10 votes! Oh…and don't worry the pairing is mostly to make PH motherfucking jealous.**

**Kumo Ito: I've considered the fact, but I think only somewhat. You'll see what I mean in a few paragraphs below~! And yes, I think…after writing this, I might actually let him too if there really was no other way for me to die.**

* * *

Serious eyes scanned the paper once more. Research, research, research. That's all they did before the actual job. Apparently there was a disturbance in the 'real world' in the case of an author's fantasy gone awry. With the darkness moving to taint even their 'imaginative world', a place they called the 'Ganzou' for easy-recall purposes, it was possible that the invasion of the Real World had finally happened.

"So there's an actual place in the Real World called Centrailia, that is known as the 'place of silenced spirits'…" the nineteen-going-on-twenty-year-old young man, said. "That's the same description the creators of 'Silent Hill' gave to the area said town was built on. Could be why the connection is so strong."

"That's not the only problem, Sei." Cindy said, looking a little worried- she only ever called him 'Sei' when she was really concerned about something.

"What's wrong?" Seishiro asked, looking at his much younger partner.

Cindy looked at the report one more time. "There's been a boy, not a fictional original character from the forums…an actual boy, apparently he's fallen into the story. I think he was called 'Chance'…and I don't think this is a coincidence either."

Seishiro's eyes narrowed seriously. "Chance huh…didn't a girl named Fate come about in a popular Silent Hill forum a year back?"

"Yes. She became somewhat of a 'canon-esque' character, though she was never created officially." Cindy confirmed.

"But you don't need to be an official character to be brought about by the shadows." Seishiro said, "You don't think…'Fate' got to 'Chance' and the town used them together do you…?"

"It would explain the sudden disappearances of those living in Centrailia, who've been reported to have committed crimes and failed to be sentenced because of lack of evidence, complications in court conduct…" Cindy said, thinking hard as she shook her head. "…This could really be what we'd feared."

Seishiro grabbed his backpack off the chair and swung it over his shoulder. "Looks like we're heading to Silent Hill."

The town had conjured up a life of it's own, right from the very pit of darkness. A darkness that lingered in every heart, in every corner, in every shadow, in every existence. Only now, the town had managed to tap into said darkness and use its assets…fanfiction, original characters, official characters…to become, in every meaning of the word…real. And it was their job to put an end to that terror.

"Seishi…" Cindy said, following him down the hall to the portal room. "You know…I understand why we have to stop darker stories and creations from invading the Real World from ours but…wouldn't it be better if we let the good ones…you know, not like Silent Hill, manifest themselves?"

"Cindy." Seishiro said sternly, "You know why we can't let that happen. The people on the other side…they don't think we're real. Think about what might happen if we were just so show up one day and say '_hey, you know that Vocaloids aren't just computer programs?_' or '_If you accidentally break the glass of a Silent Hill arcade game, Pyramid Head'll really grab ya and skin ya alive!'_…we'd be the crazy ones. The line between our worlds may be very thin, but it doesn't mean it's not necessary."

"Hmmh…" Cindy sighed. "There's really no helping it, then."

"Nope. There isn't. These two worlds can never meet." Seishiro declared. "And that's why we're here."

…but that wouldn't stop Silent Hill. Not in the slightest. Fate's far eyes had seen into their souls, heard everything, anticipated. Now, all fate had to do…was wait. This was the moment. This was the 'chance' she was waiting for. Chance…was all that she needed.

The cogs began to turn again.

* * *

The throbbing. The aching throbbing. Always, always…it was always driving him insane. Driving him to the brink of rage. Anger. But it was…such a delicious pain. An addicting ache that he both loathed and loved at the same time. If monsters could feel love, that was.

Not that it mattered in the slightest.

"Mphh…" tenderly chapped lips, stained with blood and ooze, wrapped around the tip of Pyramid Head's massive manhood, clenched together tightly but slowly opening, coming to accept the taste, the stench. "Hmph-…nphh…"

The punisher held Chance's wrists tightly together, held them behind his back as the boy was forced to kneel forward towards his groin. A low rumbling-a chuckle, emerged from the darkness under the metallic chamber over his head. The boy whimpered as he suckled, dead eyes fluttering open to look up at the other. Chance had done well.

This taste of musky essence was simply a reward for the boy's actions.

The aching throbbing, the pressure Pyramid Head had come to dislike and yet yearn for grew, tighter and tighter, the pit of his abdomen became, and they could both hear hot breath coming from under the helmet.

Chance groaned a little, withdrawing, tongue trailing under the head of the massive cock he had been allowed to savor, connecting him to sexual organ with a string of sticky, thick saliva. "Haa…"

The tension released at the sight of his prisoner's needy face and Pyramid Head let go, thick black spraying onto the boy's face in generous amounts.

"Mphh-aa…" Chance gasped weakly, still-open mouth catching some of the bile-tasting spunk.

A heavy hand grabbed his chin and the boy cried out as his jaws were forced shut, the foul black taste overflowing into his throat and he gagged. Chance struggled a little, but his arms were aching from the force being used to restrain his wrists, and he couldn't do much more than tug weakly at the other's mighty hand uselessly.

The boy finally swallowed, coughing as his jaw was let go of. He lurched forward soon after, vomiting the foul liquid out of his system, panting. "GH-AAKH-! Khu-khu-…haaa-khu…hah…ahh…"

Pyramid Head stood over the ejected semen and the boy, letting go of his wrists and growling low. No matter, there were other ways to infect the boy's body with his taint. Much like he had been doing all this time. Besides, _that_ way was more enjoyable, and seemingly more effective.

"Ukh…" Chance felt a tear run down his cheek to his chin, dripping onto the blood and semen on the floor. "J-Just…"

There was nothing left. After everything, after falling into this hell, after running and fighting, after watching everyone he loved die, after the kill…there was nothing left. Only this sick, twisted mix of torture and pleasure. Pyramid Head had been right. The monster really was the only thing he would ever really have.

Pyramid Head chuckled evilly, a sound Chance learned to distinguish from his low groans, his random grunts, his roars of rage. The boy blushed meekly, but his begging gaze remained. Wanting. Begging. Pleading. The executioner grabbed the boy's head by his blonde locks, roughly tugging his face up, closer to the tip of the helmet.

_Say it._

Chance's stomach tightened, as he felt the tempting hand rub at his own arousal, having been neglected since the start of their exchange. "Mhh-…haa…wh-wha…"

The grip in his hair tightened painfully.

"Ah-!"

_Say it, Chance._

Chance's eyes widened at the feeling that the monster had actually used his name. He stared through teary eyes at his keeper, his punisher, his master, his consequence. "I'm…yours…"

The sweet tightness of the now lithe, malnutritioned body did very little to resist the massive length forced into it once more. Chance trembled, gasping hard and panting even harder. Torturous. Luscious. Sweet. Bitter.

"U-uhhn…!" the boy's high-pitched cry echoed through the chamber, lined with black steel, stained with blood in every possible crevice. "Haa…! AH-!"

Pyramid Head lifted the boy's small, soft hips up off himself, pushing them back down harshly.

"YAA-!" Chance threw his head back, spittle running down the corner of his mouth as he did so.

It hurt. Everything hurt. The loss. The entrapment. The cruelty. The deaths. Out…he wanted to block everything out. Forget. Forget. Forget. He didn't need it. He didn't need any of it.

This…this was all he needed to feel.

"F-faster!" Chance begged, and all too gladly, the monster complied-forcing the smaller, weaker form to ride his cock. "Haa-! Ah! HAH-! AAHN!"

The dull, sickening, sinful pleasure of his beast's body.

"OH-!" Chance's eyes shut tight and his body stiffened, as the massive head inside him rammed right into his prostate. "TH-AH-! Y-Yeeees.." he trailed off, breath coming to but naught a whisper as his eyes hazed with lust.

The slow, delightful tainting of his innocently human body.

"MGH…!" Chance bucked down against the next thrust, and the few following after, arms shooting up to wrap themselves around the strong neck. "AH-! AAH-! M-HA-! I-I'M GONNA-!"

Pyramid Head felt the ache of his penis intensify, thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster. All that could be heard now was the sound of gasps and yelps, low metallic grunts, and the slapping of taut, toned hips against softer, delicate, cheeks. They rode against each other, building, building, building. Mutually, becoming this sickening combine of bodies in the most perverted way.

"NGH-HAAAAAA!" Chance cried, milky white splattering against his thighs and the smock of the beast.

Pyramid Head rumbled low, the pressure at his groin alleviating significantly. There was no real pleasure in his release. Just the infection that propagated itself through his very existence. He ejaculated acidic corruption into the boy whose thighs were pressed against his hips, pushing into the smaller body has hard as he could.

"NGH-! Uhh…" only now did Chance realize he had been sobbing this whole time.

Sadness tore at his chest. Despair claimed his being, and he slumped against the larger form, clinging, clinging onto insanity. His only means of existence that remained.

_You are MINE._

Chance's eyes slowly slid shut as he clung to the form, accepting his place, his fate. And in the realm of non-exitence and existence, fate smiled cruelly. It was done.

* * *

"There's…really nothing we can do." The doctor said sadly. "He's been in that state ever since the motorcycle accident."

Seishi nodded. "Thank you, sensei."

The doctor blinked awkwardly. "Uh…"

Condy smiled a little, "He's japanese, doctor. Please excuse him. He doesn't really know everything quite yet."

Seishiro frowned, looking at the boy laid out on the bed. "He looks like he's lost a lot of weight. How long has he been here?"

"Almost a month, now." The doctor said. "His brothers are waiting in the hall. I'll be right back after I tell them his condition."

Seishiro approached the comatose boy on the bed as the doctor left them. "Hell when he finds out we're not really relatives of his. We better get the fuck out of here before he comes in with this kid's brothers."

"From the report, they're not really related." Cindy said. "He was picked up by a biker gang when he was just…sixteen?"

"Jeez…poor kid." Seishiro said, gazing at the peacefully sleeping form. "What kind of sad life did this kid have?"

He'd read the reports too. He'd seen the fanfictions. Some of the things people come up with just…how could this have happened. It was the first time in aeons that a character with the same name as a real person ever connected with each other directly. No…the second. Alessa had been the first.

"What are you doing?" Cindy asked as Seishiro bent over Chance.

"Checking on something." Seishiro said, parting Chance's eyelids open as carefully as possible.

He froze at the sight of bright silver eyes against deep black sclera. No…

"Shit!" he cursed, backing away from the body. "We're too late!"

"What?" Cindy asked. "What do you mean, we're too late?"

The door opened quickly as Kurt and John stormed in, furious. The body on the bed twitched. Seishiro grabbed Cindy's wrist and backed away from both the hospital bed and the pair of angry men.

"Who're you, you fucking little squirt?!" Kurt demanded, unbridled anger already peaked from the stress of having Chance hospitalized, now reaching it's peak.

John followed, cracking his knuckles. "Start talking, kiddies." He said in a gruff voice, eyes narrowing.

**(Author's Note: LOL I bet you forgot about these two already, didn'tcha?)**

Cindy gripped Seishiro's jacket, "Seishi…"

Seishiro swallowed but stood firm. "We don't want any trouble…"

"Well too bad." Kurt spat. "We ain't in the fuckin' mood as it is, and you just had to come strolling in here…well good timing." He reached out and grabbed Seishiro's jacket by the front, near the boy's chin, pulling him off his feet easily. "Gh-!"

"Seishi!" Cindy cried. "Ah-!?"

John grabbed the girl by her hair, grinning a little. "Well, look at this little lovely right here…"

"Let her go!" Seishi growled, warning. "Don't make me hurt you!"

Seishiro kicked at Kurt's chin, sending the man stumbling backwards as the boy landed on the floor smoothly. He glared at Kurt next, baring his teeth like a wolf.

"Let. Her. Go." he said. "I'm not going to tell you a third time."

John frowned and raised his hand to his lips, putting his thumb and forefinger between his teeth. He blew hard, whistling. Almost as soon as he did, there came a few more burly, large men, filing through the door and forming a half circle around them. The rest of the biker gang, Seishiro assumed.

"Sei!" Cindy cried.

Seishiro smirked a little. "Don't worry, Cindy…this isn't gonna take long at all."

"Not that!" Cindy said, and Seishiro followed her frightened gaze to the hospital bed.

Seishiro's eyes widened as he realized that the boy's position had changed. No longer was the body laying straight and limp, the boy's knees had drawn up, and the bed-sheet tented between the spread thighs.

"What the fuck…" Seishiro whispered as a third bulge began growing between Chance's knees.

A large hand, grey from lack of exposure to sunlight, and red from sprayed blood that was already caked and browning in some places from being oxidized suddenly shot out from under the blanket. As soon as it touched the sheets of the hospital bed, a sick rotting fiber began to spread from the tips of it's fingers.

"What in fucking hell?!" John cried as he slipped on the substance that was quickly making it's way down the bed, onto the floor and soon at the nearest corner of the room and up the wall.

Kurt let go of Cindy's hair to throw a punch at Seishiro, who ducked. "The FUCK did you do?!"

A head, half-covered in a metal mask on the left side made it's way out of the bedsheets, followed by a neck and a strong torso, dressed in an old, blood-soaked apron. The Butcher slowly exited his mother's body, in one hand the Great Cleaver, the other dragging the whole of his body out of the weak, lithe form.

_Beatings cleanse the soul, they say, and that is what he'll do…._

"Fuck, the poem's back…" Seishiro stepped back as he dodged the punch, looking at Cindy who slunk behind him once more, before looking at Kurt. "Sure, blame me for this shit…if you don't want to die, I suggest you run!"

Right after the Great Cleaver made it clear from between the boy's thighs, a hand, fitted snugly into a dark almost black rubber glove, followed by a gas mask. The Bogeyman slowly squeezed his way into existence next to his brother.

Kurt didn't want to listen. "Get'm boys!"

"Fuck!" Seishiro cursed, grabbing Cindy and pulling her down with him as he ducked past a baseball bat from one of the thugs.

Slowly, right behind Kurt, the tip of a heavy, rusty, triangular helmet formed.

Before another blow could be launched at them, Seishiro pulled Cindy into a protective embrace and they rolled out of the way, Seishiro managing to get on his knees afterwards.

"I told you fucking idiots to run!" he screamed.

_If you don't control your anger then you'll feel his anger too..._

Kurtis yelled in surprise as he was lifted off the ground by the back of his neck by a stronger, more muscular arm, and unbridled strength. Seishiro and Cindy watched in horror as they recognized the figure.

Pyramid Head threw Kurtis across the room, smashing him right into the machinery that kept Chance alive. The man grunted, his head colliding directly against the IV stand that fell with his collision against it.

"AH-!" Cindy screamed, The Bogeyman's gas mask suddenly appearing just a inch from her nose.

"Gh-…!" Seishiro pulled her away just as the creature's massive gloved hand almost strangled her. "Run!"

The rot suddenly overcame the room as they exited. Cindy screamed again as the Great Cleaver swiped just a few strands of her hair too many. The men left inside could be heard, cries of pain and agony as the sick sound of wetness accompanied the swooshing of blades.

* * *

Voices...he could hear...voices...?

"Jeez...what kind of sad life did this kid lead, anyway?"

Who...who was that? Where...where was he?

"Sei!"

"Don't worry, Cindy…this isn't gonna take long at all."

"Not that!"

The screaming. The yelling...it wasn't as bad as before. It was...nice, to hear. It was...comforting, to hear. Better than the silence of the chambers. More...he...he wanted to hear more. More, more screaming. He needed to know...who...who's out there?

Tiredly, the boy opened his eyes, bright silver reflecting against deep black sclera. Chance stared at the ceiling, body suddenly feeling weak. What...what was happening?

"I told you fucking idiots to run!"

Who...was that? That wasn't...Kurtis or...John...

"Mhh…" Chance breathed, the feeling slowly returning to his body and he realized there was an IV up his arm.

He sat up as quickly as he could unused muscled aching as he did so and he winced, pulling the IV out and tossing it aside. The boy blinked, staring at the hospital gown he was in curiously. When did he…a strong arm wrapped itself around his bottom and legs, lifting him off the bed and into a cold, unfeeling chest. Chance looked up at Pyramid Head blankly, altered eyes dull and uncaring.

_You are home._

Chance's tired eyes wandered through the browning-red room, the saw familiar bodies. Familiar faces. He slowly blinked as his head rested against the monster's strong pectorals.

"Don't…need it…" he said groggily, throat haven't been used in ages.

Kurt gasped, feeling all the blood in his body draining slowly from the vertical opening all the way down the front of his body. "Ch…a..n…ki…d…"

Chance turned his head away from the sight, pressing his forehead against Pyramid Head's. "…I don't…"

The Butcher took Kurtis' head clean off with a quick yank of his hair.

Chance closed his eyes and looked up at the darkness under the helmet, he inched towards it blindly, in a daze, but at the same time all too aware. Did any of this really mean anything anymore? If it did…would it make any difference? Would he care?

It wasn't long before the boy's head joined the punisher's beneath the helmet. Like before…there was only a crushing, hopeless, darkness. It was…comforting. There was nothing more he could ever need. Just…this cool, soothing decay of his very soul.

Soft chapped lips cut against sharp needles for teeth and Chance gasped just long enough for the slick, slimy tongue to push into his mouth. "Mphh-…" the boy cried against it, feeling it slide down his throat and into his body.

Chance moaned uncomfortably, feeling need rise between his thighs and he roughly ground himself on the abdomen he was being cradled against. A sting of realization, of memory…reminding him of who he was…who he had been. The images of Kurtis' head being ripped forcefully from it's place suddenly tormented him.

And Chance cried. He didn't want this…why…why had it come to this? How did this…happen…

This very moment of clarity, brought about Chance's true suffering. The torment of watching his fate unravel without his control. Watching as the remnants of his true life were torn to shreds before his very eyes. Watching as his body reacted anomalistically with it's raw need and desire for the filth that was a monster's cold, dead, touch. Watching, and being able to do nothing but wish…that it would all go away.

He was so…useless.

_That is right. Cry._

Chance trembled against the choking darkness he was mingling with, a darkness that captivated him. Breath, tasting of musk and blood, lingered with his own and invaded his lungs, poisoning him slowly. His sobs, muffled by the appendage in his throat as Pyramid Head pressed his stomach into the boy's crotch, feeling the hardness between them both. Chance felt like he could really just…die, from the humiliation.

* * *

**Hi again…I'm….sorry to have to cut this short. I just got news from my cousin about…I dunno…six minutes ago before writing this author's note right now that…our last grandmother has passed away. It's been…several years since my grandfather passed away. Altogether, it was always him, and our three grandmothers living together…my grandmothers were all sisters and we would always see the four of them together. They always took care of me and my little brothers as kids.**

**Now…I can at least find comfort in the fact that…they're all together now. I just hope…they're happy together again. It's…good to be with people you love.**

**I'm sorry I had to cut this chapter short. I'm sorry that I've always got life throwing lemons at me that I can't seem to just brush off. I'm sorry I don't know when I'm going to post the next chapter. But…I'll do my best.**

**Please do tell me what you think so far…and, if I should continue in this direction with the story.**

**Yours faithfully,**

**JapFan04**

**EDIT: I updated this after I posted it so the story would flow better. And don't worry, the backstory of the whole multiple dimensions thing isn't really going to be a major subject in this story. I just needed to give an identity to the new OC's here. Then I can fuck with them all I want. ;P**


	20. Chances Are (LAST CHAPTER, SMUT)

**This is based off the Boogeyman's song (But I'd prefer to call that sexy motherfucker Pyramid Head), which I found was quite beautiful. It's written in the way of fulfillment of the poem that the parents involved with the Order told to their children in order to cover up for the disappearing (and eventually sacrificed) children in accordance to the pact they made.**

**The poem can be found by looking up 'Child's Drawing' on the Silent Hill Wiki. Please do take the time to read the whole thing if you feel like it or just don't want to read the poem in the spread of the whole fic. This is from searching for 'Boogeyman' in the Silent Hill Wiki, explaining why I'd choose Pyramid Head over Boogeyman (in accompaniment to the fact that it sounds sexier to have an original name rather than some monster name that's been used to years.):**

**"There are several hints which imply the Bogeyman to be Pyramid Head:**

**There are visual similarities in the Bogeyman drawings alluding to ****_Silent Hill 2_**

**Mayan Escalante, senior artist of ****_Homecoming_****, refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [4]**

**Coding in the game's files refers to the Bogeyman as Pyramid Head [5]**

**The BradyGames ****_Homecoming_**** strategy guide refers to him as Pyramid Head [6]**

**The Bogeyman figurine on Konami's merchandise was labeled "Red Pyramid Thing [7]**

**Various interviews with developers [8][9]**

**Ultimately, Tomm Hulett has said that whether or not the two are the same is up to, "[Each] player's interpretation."**

**Further on, there is the possibility of Pyramid Head's origins: "Pyramid Head may be based on a painting Alessa saw in the Grand Hotel just before she was burned alive by the cultists. [10] Another theory to Pyramid Head's origins is that he may be Alessa's incarnation of her "father" - a man unknown to her, wearing a mask that conceals his identity, an authoritative figure punishing those in Silent Hill that had punished her in the past." Which, i think is quite heroic, if not somewhat charming, don't you think? Kesesese~..**

**Also, sorry it is slightly inaccurate by the fact that not all the children just suddenly disappear at once-although I might try to fix that before this is posted up with some whatever-the-fuck, reasoning. In the game, I am well aware that a child is only sacrificed once every 50 years or something.**

**Chance is my OC. And there will be some rather delicious PHXChance action. Because it takes one hell of a monster to tame a wild young man.**

**Please also take the time to read the Founding Families History, since the events happening in this fix will be based off the Sheperd's, Barlett's, Holoway's, and Fitch's family method of sacrifice.**

**There is an interesting sight labelled the Silent Hill Office of Tourism, and the sight seems pretty legit and its fun to go there and read what they've made up about the town, particularly:**

**"It is said that the whole area is sacred ground where native Americans conducted mysterious rituals. Before settlers came from Europe, Silent Hill was considered to be a holy place, and was referred to as ''The Place of the Silenced Spirits''.**

**Some say however it's based of Centrailia, Pennsylvania. However I have been told that there IS a real 'Silent Hill' town in California, made popular by the game series and movie 'Silent Hill'**

**Okay. I think…it's everything that's happening right now. I know I said I didn't know when I was going to post next, but…I think…being in this depressed, troubled state is really why I keep writing. It's one of the few comforts I can give to myself, being so fa from home, unable to be there when my grandmother finally passes.**

**I miss her.**

**And this is all I can do to distract myself.**

**Aherm; enough of the moody-moody. I write for fun and to keep going in life. I know a lot of you might be confused at the new angle the story is taking. But worry not! This chapter will clarify and darken everything once more. And it's the LAST chapter for this series of 'Chance' so if you'd like to see whether there be a sequel or not~...**

**JapFan04**

* * *

The boy shivered at the recall of the blood-spattered walls and gore-infested tiles. This…this wasn't supposed to happen. How…how did they not make it in time? How long had this been going on? He shook his head, covering his ears against the screams of the nurses in the hall and the patients that were too slow to make it. Back pressed against a wall that would soon also begin decaying, rotting, festering. He shuddered.

"Sei!" Cindy cried, shaking her partner's shoulders. "Sei! Sei!"

No, no, no! Not now…not now of all times. But the relapse of the boy's memories was far too strong for him to resist as the girl looked up to find more of those…things…those…monsters-if that word was even strong enough to describe their horrid appearance, emerged from nowhere and yet everywhere.

"Sei!" Cindy screamed, slapping him across the cheek.

Seishiro gasped, breathing hard, chest heaving and collapsing, he blinked, looking up at her, cheek reddening. "….huh….a-…uh…s-sorry…"

"We have to get out." Cindy said. "There's nothing we can do if we're killed here."

Seishiro bit his bottom lip and swallowed, raising himself from the floor quickly. She was right. There was nothing he could do if he was in this useless state. As the pair ran down the hall which was slowly waving back and forth in their vision, a strange, loud, boasting siren screeching through the air, they covered their ears and gritted their teeth through the unpleasant sound.

"Just like the arcade…" Seishiro said bitterly.

"Seishi…" Cindy said as the sound let up.

The world around them was of burning ashes, seeping through grated floors that burned with a black hellish fire. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but eternal darkness, all the way down. Cindy felt her stomach drop at the sight of the place, and Seishiro grabbed her wrist as they ran, shooting her a reassuring glance.

"Don't look down." He said. "You'll never be able to see the light again if you do."

The girl nodded, not questioning why he knew, how he knew. He just…did. And right now, they could only rely on each other to leave. If, they could leave. But they had to believe. They had to believe in earnest they could.

"UKH-!" Seishiro gagged as he felt a tight constriction around his throat.

Where had that come form?! There was no way it was there, the hall was empty as they were just running. Cindy yelped as Seishiro was yanked off his feat in the hands of non other than The Butcher. Thick hands felt like they had layers of gloves over then, the grip like steel, almost crushing his windpipe. He kicked futilely, despite his height, his legs reached short of the monster's chest.

"Let him go!" she cried, before remembering a very crucial fact to their existence. "Sei, get away! You can get away!"

Belief. That was the power they operated on. The belief of existences, the belief of beyond what the Real World could offer. Silent Hill was not the only thing that could tap into this source of life. How far it would save them though…they could not be sure at this point.

For now though, it was enough. Seishiro's eyes flashed wide with sudden realization of his own strength and he raised his arm, making a swift chopping motion at the beast's wrist. The Butcher roared in rage as his grip slipped from the boy's throat and Seishiro landed on his feet, glare and smirk present.

"Heh." he grinned, moving his body just enough to the right to avoid the Great Cleaver and grabbing Cindy's wrist once more, he threw her down, allowing her to slide just right between the legs of the giant creature, right under the apron, if not brushing it as she went.

"Yiiii!" she squealed, feeling the caked blood and some fresh, wipe across her face as the apron grazed it.

Seishiro made a jump as The Butcher swung his cleaver down, stepping on the hand that held the handle, using it as leverage and summersaulting over the head of the creature, landing next to the girl who was now lightly crying as she wiped a hand across her dirtied face. "You're really not cut out for horror games."

"This isn't a game!" she sobbed, disgusted at the smell the apron had left on her person.

There was no time for any more sentiments or teasing though, The Butcher had turned swiftly, enraged. He hated it, hated it, hated it! Hated such persistence, the wiles, the refined avoidance of his ferocious attacks. Irritated. Angry.

"Not anymore it isn't." the one last smart remark fluttered their escape as Seishiro pulled Cindy onto her feet and they continued down the hall.

Though he was large, The Butcher was fast. Large strides, derived from his 'father' allowed him to move at a comfortable pace as the two sprinted for their lives. Seishiro heard Cindy's breath starting to come short as they ran, if he hadn't continued tugging, she would have fallen behind already-her body wasn't accustomed to such exertion.

"Cin-…" he said, looking back at her, but he stopped, pulling her aside as a giant cinderblock nearly rammed her pretty little body into a mess. "GHKH-!"

"SEI!"

Seishiro felt himself collide against the wall, his chest…no, the whole of his torso flaring up in intense agony. He tasted bile and copper as he slid down to his feet, lurching forward and vomiting. At the sight of her comrade, Cindy felt a sudden spurn throughout her body. Now, she was PISSED.

The Bogeyman filled up almost the whole of the narrow hallway, slowly, the creature raised the 'hammer' it held-a mere steel bar embedded in the thick, blood-covered cinderblock. He looked Seishiro up and down as the boy winced, eyes trying to keep themselves over despite the nausea he felt from the direct hit. He calculatingly reached for the human, but groaned-head flipping back as a bullet ricocheted off his gas mask.

Cindy held the smoking gun, glaring at the beast before turning back to face the approaching Butcher, firing a few shots into the monster's chest, slowing it down after the sixth shot. "Hmph." she huffed, flipping her skirt up just enough to tuck the gun away into a holster she kept high at her thigh. "Come on."

Seishiro coughed at the flash of silk panties he couldn't help seeing from his slumped angle on the floor. "Wear shorts, next time."

Cindy's face turned red and she slapped him again, getting the boy onto his feet-the sting at his cheek waking him from his nausea-induced daze. "Pervert!"

"OW!"

* * *

"HNGH-…! Uh!" Chance choked and arched, clinging onto the end of the hospital bed, knees spread as the impossible fitting of their bodies commenced once more.

Pyramid Head grasped the boy's hair, but soon let go, raking his nails down the smaller back that was bent over before him, growling low.

"Haa…ash…" Chance shuddered, feeling all too full for his own good. "N-…oo.."

_You are lying._

Chance blushed, feeling shame fill his very soul at his undignified position. "Haa…please don't…"

_Liar._

The boy swallowed, tears falling, each drop a mourning sign. A tear for his mother. A tear for his friends. A tear for his father. A tear for his brothers. A tear for his innocence. A tear for his violation. A tear for his very freedom.

He gasped as the beast ground it's hips into his own, not pulling out, causing the cock inside of him to dig in painfully, temptingly. "Ah-haa! Aaah…"

_Tell me the truth._

"Mhh…" Chance sobbed, hanging his head low, position all too mockingly mimicking the exact one he was in the first time his purity was stolen from him on that damned, cold, slaughter table. "Mnh…m-m…more…"

_Tell me what you desire._

"More…" Chance cried silently. "More…give me…my punishment…!"

And he received it. The very body of the one thing he would ever truly have invaded his. Over, and over, and over again. The sick scent of rotting flesh violating the softer, living, human filled the air. Chance cried, willingly forcing himself back onto the penis that pounded at his insides.

_Slap. Slap. Slap. Smack._

"Huu-OH!" the smaller body shuddered as one of the boy's most sensitive parts was struck "A-again…please…please!"

He felt himself stretch and lick his lips masochistically. So good…so painful…yes…yes! Right there…there it was. Oh god…

There was no god here. As far as Chance was concerned…Pyramid Head was his god. His reason for existing…the only real thing left. And this thought drove him insane for the beast. Insane for his body. Insane for his cruelty. Insane for his torture.

"A-aah-AAH! HAA-!" Chance's body began to tremble, and he knew he was close. "MNGH-…"

And the strangest thing happened. For some reason…he knew it. He knew…that old name. The real name of this frightening nightmare of a man-like monster. It was a sad name. A beautiful name.

"MN-HAH!" Chance arched into the body hunched over his own. "J-JAMES!"

Pyramid Head froze, jerking violently for a fraction of a second before, signs of heavy breathing showed. Chance grew dizzy from the sensations, and was caught by surprise when the monster grabbed the metal bar Chance had been holding onto, and drove even harder into the smaller form.

Chance's eyes widened as he felt himself rip painfully. "UWAHH! AH-!"

Yes.

"AAAH! HAA-!"

That was who he was.

"AAH-H-HURTS!"

That was his name.

"J-JAMES-! P-PLEASE-!"

This was his own punishment.

"AAH-! I CAN'T!"

And it was also his sick, twisted pleasure.

"HAA-AAAAAHHAAAA!"

The tight muscles around his cock caused Pyramid Head to peak, and strangely enough…it felt…good. The pleasure was not intense, and it was accompanied by a sick burning of his own acidic essence, followed by the semi-re-hardening of his cock. But…

Chance's eyes rolled back into his head as is stomach felt like it would burst from the cum being pumped into it. "U-uuu…huh…"

The boy collapsed onto the bed, ass in the air. Pyramid Head gazed down at the lithe body before him, hunger suddenly intensifying. The tinge of pleasure…a sick reward for his actions, his victory in enticing this very boy. He needed more. More!

"Khh-uhn…" Chance coughed, feeling his hips burn painfully, lazily looking up at his captor.

The executioner slicked his tongue out from beneath the shelter of his helmet that he miraculously remembered was bolted into his very skull. Not that it mattered. It paused at the boy's entrance before seeming to decide elsewhere, and wrapped itself around Chance's penis instead.

"Hngh-…?" Chance's sleepy gaze suddenly melted as he felt the sharpened, needle-like tip of the tongue, so accustomed to piercing through flesh, slip its way into the slit of his cocked. "NGH-!"

Chance shook violently, reaching down to grasp the appendage.

"Wa…what…" he stammered as his arousal returned without his control, gasping for breath. "Naa-aah…!"

He wanted to fill this boy. To consume him. Corrupt every last nook and crevice of him. To destroy him completely. And own him.

"C-can't..do…anymore…" Chance confessed, tearing up and shaking head head that was still pressed against the sheets. "S-stop…I'll…I'll die…"

Pyramid Head knew that feeling well. A low groan and a laugh that was almost…almost human…or maybe Chance had just simply already lost his mind, came from behind the steel. Chance sighed at the alluring sound and gave him, biting his lip and slowly letting go of the tongue to let it do as it pleased.

"Mngh-aah…" Chance groaned as he felt the thing in his cock nudge around a little, pushing in and out, in and out.

The thought of having his penis fucked by the slick appendage made Chance feel even more filthy than he ever had before and he shut his eyes. But it did nothing to help him cope with the shame that made him feel even hotter.

That's it. What a good boy Pyramid Head mused; as he tasted the inside of his meal's manhood, enjoying the sheer embarrassment it was bringing his favorite victim. He quickly pulled his tongue out, causing Chance to whimper at the loss of attention.

Pyramid Head lifted the boy off the bed and turned him over, without warning-he plunged himself into the other once more.

"YAAH-!" Chance screamed as he felt himself stretch and the black ooze that was still inside him squish and lubricate the penetration. "AUH!"

The thrusts were frantic and filled with desire, the monster chasing that one perverted goal of claiming his prisoner until there was nothing the boy could do without needing him. A selfish need. A selfish want. One of the many that kept Pyramid Head as he was…a monster.

With one hard thrust, Pyramid Head released himself into the boy once more, groaning low.

"MHH-!" Chance wrapped his legs around the other's hips, recalling that name that seemed to please his master. "J-James…"

The boy's cry was a mere whisper as he came with the beast, tired body heaving from the sudden abuse after just awakening. A slow burning was in his stomach and he knew that it wasn't food.

_Mine…_

Chance heaved, feeling his hips lift off the bed, hardening cock embedded inside his ass shift a little as he was repositioned to straddle the larger being's hips. "Haa…"

No…he couldn't…go anymore…

"Ahh…" Chance's tired thighs lifted themselves off the other, before he shut his eyes and tilted his head back, sliding back down the massive shaft. "Oooh…"

More. Pyramid Head needed more.

Neither cared how much time passed. How many times they meshed together, slapping against each other, sharing essences. Time didn't matter…all that did was the rough, painful unison of bodies. The black seed was fed into the boy's weaker form again, and again, and again, and again.

"Hngh-!" Chance whimpered, the whole of his insides from his hips, to his stomach, and up to his throat burning. "F-fuuuull…"

Pyramid Head continued to buck, ignoring the boy's complaints. There were already heavy finger-shaped bruises not he other's cheeks and hips, the tender voice that had been screaming ancient minutes ago now grew ragged and tired. How many times was this, Chance wondered…ten…thirteen…? What…what was he doing to him…?

"Please…" Chance begged. "N-no more…so…ho-hot…UNGH-…ah…HAA….!"

Pyramid Head parted the boy's thighs as wide as they could go and thrust in as hard as he could, Chance arched weakly, crying, covered in streams and streams of his own cum, body feeling more broken than ever. The cock pumped in and out of him repeatedly, growing animalistic in it's pace.

"Haa-…a-again…no way…UH-!?" Chance gasped in denial, feeling his cock twitch as it always did when he was close to orgasm. "HA-…n-no…please…Pleaaaase…James please…! AH-! HAA! I-I'M GONNA CUM…! JAMES!"

Pyramid Head stilled, buried balls deep in his partner and he groaned low and long, shooting more of his rot into the cute little abused ass. Chance shuddered, becoming faint and coughing as he felt a surge of the heat within him, the black, festering semen bubbling up from his throat and out his mouth. All the way, though and through, he was completely, and utterly filled.

The fuck after that was just for good measure, Chance's cries turning desperate and pathetic, pleading to put a stop to the pleasure that was so wrong and agonizing. As Pyramid Head gave one final thrust, Chance vomited the same icky substance his intestines had been pumped with, falling like a broken doll against the strong chest, spent and full and exhausted.

Now, there was only one other need Pyramid Head had to satisfy. For at least what seemed to be like five minutes, they stayed like that, the boy slowly regaining his senses. But it wasn't long…

Chance cried as a swift blade cut through the skin of his stomach, tracing over the scar tissue that marked an X over his navel. The sting only intensified when the punisher slicked his tasting appendage across the wound, smearing red color across skin. The sterile room now smelled strongly of copper, rotting meat, and sex.

With the thirst for fresh blood and fornication now satisfied, the sweet taste of his captured pet filling the intense craving for complete dominance and control, Pyramid Head let go of the boy and roughly tossed him back onto the hospital bed. Chance landed with a small creak of springs and an almost inaudible grunt.

The beast that now owned him drew the cum-soiled sheets over the smaller being's head, covering his bare, abused form in the tent it formed. Chance blinked at the odd show of…affection? Confused, he looked up at the creature who simply took his giant blade off the wall, tired gaze wavering.

The boy had no way to know that it was only deemed appropriate by the fates. Now that they had stripped him of his most basic rights to life, to comfort, to love…it was going to feed him those very, fickle, ridiculous desires. The mere illusion of caring stunned the boy, the cold fingertips of rot and corruption becoming…right. Feeling so…at home.

"Why…are you…" Chance whispered breathlessly as Pyramid Head turned away from him, giving one last tuck to the blanket that now sheltered his bare naked form-but he suddenly stopped caring about why and his question changed. "Where..are you...going…?"

It really didn't matter why anymore. That little taste of something…almost warm, almost affectionate was addicting. As long as it didn't stop…as long as…as long as Pyramid Head was there to give it, he didn't give a damn! Chance's heart began to race as thoughts of being left behind by the creature tormented him.

…the boy he once was would've laughed at the thought of missing the very object of his torment.

"Where are you going?" Chance asked again, louder this time, desperate, throat sore and torn from his own screaming.

Pyramid Head paused, a needle-toothed grin hidden behind his metallic mask. And he cocked his helmet to the side along with his hidden head, a single thought resonating between them.

_Hunting._

Chance choked on what he said next, baffled by his own words. "C-come back, soon…"

The helmet lowered menacingly, satisfied, pleased. It was arrogant in it's stance, and boasting in it's victory. Pyramid Head looked at his possession one last time, before turning, and dragging the heavy blade out of the room.

There was one other, he was assigned to torment.

* * *

Seishiro shut his eyes as he slowly began to feel the pain dull and then slip away from his body. They had found shelter…for the moment. Said hiding spot was the main lobby of the hospital, just a hallway down from the exit. Cindy had locked the exit doors closed and put a special seal over them, preventing the rot of Silent Hill spreading outside. The only problem with that was…now they were trapped inside with the infestation.

"Did you get it done?" Seishiro wheezed a little, lifting his shirt up to see the massive bruise forming over well…his entire front torso.

Cindy returned, a tube of cream in her hand. "Uh-huh. Nothing's getting out of here."

"Great." the boy said with only partial enthusiasm.

Being trapped in here with those things wasn't exactly part of the plan. Cindy squeezed a bit of the cream onto he hand, rubbing it over the bruise. Seishiro flinched slightly, feeling it sting in some places.

"Looks like the skin split open in some areas. Sorry, it'll sting in that case." she said, looking very worried.

"Fuck-!" Seishiro stifled his cry, still cursing as he felt a particular strong sting at the side of his ribs.

"Sorry." Cindy apologized, continuing to treat the injury.

"…those guys back there…" Seishiro breathed. "We have to find them in this end of the world if we don't want them to die."

"…yeah…" she replied, voice making her concern obvious.

Seishiro sighed. "Hey. Don't worry about it. We've been in stranger situations."

"Stranger. But not more dangerous." Cindy said, growing upset. "You're careless…"

"You're clueless." He smirked and scooted away from her, closer to the door that allowed them to enter behind the counter. "Shh."

It wasn't long before she heard it too. The sound was fen, and rhythmic…footprints. But they came in sets of four, like the way a horse's does.

"What is that?" Cindy whispered, flipping her skirt up, guns at the ready.

"Probably a Mannequin." Seishiro replied, peering over the swinging door a little bit. "They're not very smart, so just don't make any sudden noises."

"How many?"

"Three." Seishi picked out. "No wait…four…five…six…"

"Where are they all coming from?" Cindy asked. You know, I only have so many magazines…"

"It's Silent Hill. Who the fuck knows." Seishiro chuckled a little sourly. "Either way, I'd rather not overexert myself unnecessarily. They'll pass if we just don't catch their attention."

Easier said than done. The tension that built up over the several sounds of steps was almost unbearable. Knowing that a mere desk and it'd countertop were the only thing separating them from those…things was unnerving. They couldn't pass fast enough.

"S-Sei…" Cindy whined. "What…what do they look like?"

"Shh…" he hissed, putting a hand over her mouth. "You don't wanna know."

It felt like forever before the sound of those footsteps began to fade away as they creatures searched for more victims to torment. Seishiro held his breath for a few agonizing seconds more before removing his hand from Cindy's. She swallowed, peeking over the counter.

"Do you think those…things are looking for us?" Cindy asked, referring to the massive, towering forms that had chased them earlier.

"Probably." Seishiro said, "Seems like the town's not happy with us interfering with it's progression. In any case, the poem's already in motion again, we better find Chance and get him back to his senses."

"…" Cindy's shoulder dropped. "If we can…"

Seishiro gave her a determined look. There was no way they were leaving that kid alone in a place like this. "We have to try. He's in danger as long as he's here. Alone."

If only he knew how wrong he was.

There was no time for that however-as if there was any time for anything of convenience in this dreaded hell hole-as the scraping of heavy, rusted metal against cold grating and tiled floor soon reached their ears.

Cindy froze at the frightening noise. "What is that?"

"Shh!" Seishiro's body chilled at the sound and he hushed the girl all too eagerly.

This was the real monster they had to worry about. The original. The strongest. The fiercest. The worst of them all-Pyramid Head.

The screeching continued for a few more moments before it had come to a complete halt. It was quiet after that…too quiet. Seishiro held a finger over his lips, staring at the girl beside him with all the seriousness in the world. He shook his head to tell her it was better not to speak.

Pyramid Head stopped, tasting the air and catching a familiar, but slightly differently flavored whiff of fear. Growing accustomed to Chance's familiar scent, he realized at once that there were more humans present. The punisher wasn't one to really think too deeply, and it took him a few moments to decide to lift the Great Knife of the floor, and send it down, right at the front desk counter.

The metal sliced right through the air, cutting through the desk like a hot knife through butter.

"…!" Cindy clasped her hands over her mouth and swallowed, trembling in surprise.

Seishiro's eyes widened at his own, rusty, grey reflection in the metal right nested his shoulder, the knife separating them, too close for comfort. The ruined reflection caused something strange to click in the boy's mind, and he suddenly felt…down? Not really down just…lonely…just…not…right…

He didn't notice when the knife lifted itself off the floor and made at a very even spacing right between his eyes.

"Sei!" Cindy screamed in warning before she dove out of her diving spot, shooting at their follower.

Pyramid Head's trajectory remained uninterrupted, but the scream was enough to pull Seishiro back into his own mind long enough to roll out of the way of the blade. Upon the sixth shot, Pyramid Head felt sudden pain, and staggered back slightly. But only just slightly, before he had straightened up and hunched over, enraged. The demon swung the Great Knife with a sudden ease, strength derived from his rage, his anger, directed right at the two of them, swinging it over the helmet a couple times to gather momentum ended with a mighty downward swing towards the girl still shooting at him.

"Move!" Seishiro warned, tackling her and they both fell just short of the end of the blade-Seishiro being lucky he had drawn his knees together, else he'd have lost a foot altogether at the ankle.

"Ow…" Cindy groaned, getting up enough to see Pyramid Head step until he was just above the both of them.

* * *

Chance shivered slightly at the cold in the room. He had been waiting for maybe five minutes already. Now, despite the fact that in reality, five minutes wasn't long to wait, he felt as if he had been sitting there long enough. Where was Pyramid Head?

The curiosity and uneasiness slowly nipped at him, and he could take it no longer. Just as a leg swung itself over the side of the bed, followed by another, so that he could then get off, a large hand, mimicking that of the very beast he was now yearning for suddenly forced him back down on the sheets, pressing against his small chest.

"AH!" Chance gasped in surprise and sudden rush of fear.

The Bogeyman stood over his former host and the gateway, the blessing that had let them invade this new playground of sorts. Chance calmed down somewhat, after recognizing who the large hand belonged to, and he stared up at his offspring, breaths slowly growing softer.

They shared a moment of silence, before The Bogeyman pressed his clenched fingers directly into the cut his father had made in Chance's stomach.

"UWA-!" Chance cringed, gritting his teeth and shuddering into the pain. "O-ohh…nn…"

It felt…sweet…

"Haa-…" Chance panted, swallowing from the now dying sensation.

Curiously, The Bogeyman pressed his hand into the wound once more, much so that a fresh puddle of blood came bubbling out from between the separated layers of skin and flesh.

"NGH-!" Chance cried again, pained expression drawing The Bogeyman's curious gaze even more. "Mhh-…"

Chance grabbed the giant wrist of the monster prodding at him, trying not to give into his body's cultivated reaction to pain. Unfortunately for him, The Bogeyman was not accustomed to the musky smell of arousal, and almost at once noticed Chance's manhood raise at attention, more and more with every prod and poke at his wound.

"S-sto…" Chance whined, gripping The Bogeyman's wrist tighter. "Stop…don't…that's not..haa-…!"

Chance stiffened as his crotch was cupped and squeezed, choking, trying not to buck into the hand. This was wrong in every possible way. Despite the fact that this was indeed, a monster, knowing that he had housed this very same being in his own body and brought him into existence through a mock-birth was enough to embarrass Chance at this strange exchange.

The Bogeyman meanwhile was captivated by those tender thighs, trembling in resistance to his ministrations, and he curiously squeezed again.

"AH-!" Chance gasped, squirming under the touch and trying to ease away from it. "D-don't…you can't…!"

Roughly the hand began rubbing the heated flesh in his grip, much more calculated and controlled than his counterpart could have managed.

"NH-…!" Chance's stomach tightened and he shook his head, whimpering.

The Bogeyman paused at the sound, suddenly deciding that the soft whimper was too much not to make him want to hear more. Faster. Rougher.

Chance's hands shot to the rubber coat that was draped lazily over the murderer's shoulders, grasping it tightly, the strange friction of having his sensitive flesh rub against the foreign texture of the glove sending him over the edge.

"HAA-uuu…uhhn….!" Chance arched, covering his face with a hand, blushing blood red as his body stiffened for a few breathless moments, then slowly began to relax as he came down from his high. "Hmnn…uu…"

It was oh so wrong.

A milky white covered the rubber glove-The Bogeyman glancing at it for a few drawn out seconds before letting it's thickness ooze off the palm of his hand and onto the sheets. Chance's breathing still lingered in the air and the boy's toes twitched at the sight of his own spunk drip slowly down the other's covered forearm.

A low growl drew both of their attentions to the doorway, where a massive hulking figure, right around the same size as his brethren stood, filling up the whole space. The Butcher snarled as he made his way over to the bed, trusty Cleaver at his side as he did so. He had responded to his 'mother's' cries, thinking the boy in danger, only to be annoyed in finding his counterpart there.

The Bogeyman snorted as he turned to face his brother, and low rumbles of warning were exchanged between them. Chance looked on, becoming puzzled when a strange silence came between them in the mess of grunts, groans and growls. Then he realized that they must have been communicating wordlessly with each other.

His blood ran cold when the two beasts simultaneously turned their attention to him.

Before he knew what was happening, Chance's wrists were pinned down above his head and he could feel the rough, rusty metal press into his bleeding stomach. The Butcher had pried his metal protection off his own face slightly, causing some of the skin to be removed, fuzed with the helmet, and a slick purple tongue was lathering itself into the red that was his blood.

"NGH-!" Chance cringed in pain, The Bogeyman facing him upside down as The Butcher had his treat. "Wai-wait! GH-U-"

* * *

"UKH-!" Seishiro coughed as he was slammed against the ceiling by one of the flat sides of the Great Knife.

Cindy aimed for the thickest part of the helmet and fired. "Sei!"

A loud clang sounded and echoed throughout the entire inside of the helmet, the resonating noise causing Pyramid Head to slam his Great Knife into the ground and roar violently.

"Wah-!" The roar resounded even more than the gunshot, and the ground shook, making Cindy stumble back as Seishiro fell back down to the ground. "Se-hh-?!"

The splitting of flesh came as more of a shock than the actual pain that accompanied it. The splattering of fresh blood on her face froze her right in place, feet bolted to the ground. It had happened too fast…

No. No way. This…this couldn't happen…

"SEI!" Cindy screamed.

"Ghk-…" Seishiro coughed, both hands holding the blade, just short of going right through him completely, but his grip was faltering, his body giving into the pain. "Kh-uh-…Ci…n…ru…run…"

_You are your brother's keeper, remember it always…_

The task after that was easy enough. The new victim's limp body fell to the floor without much tampering on Pyramid Head's part, the girl with him screaming as it did so. Dulling eyes slowly looked up at her and a faint smile crossed his going-cold lips. Now, the town was doing nothing more than having fun with their miserable lives.

In her distraction, CIndy didn't see the blunt end of the knife heading right for her head.

_Or else, the Bogeyman will chain you underneath the waves…_

Pyramid Head carried both limp bodies with him down, down, down into the darkness. Most would think that the girl would have been his latest victim for torment. But the town had other plans. Following his orders, the darkness lead Pyramid Head back. Back to where they resided. Back to that dreaded little town.

"Mhh-…" As Cindy's vision returned to her, she saw the massive red bloodstain and the cut into Seishiro's chest, and panic overtook her. "Sei! Sei!"

The clanging of chains alerted her to the fact her wrists were chained together, and that they were attached to a very heavy, very solid cinderblock. Where…where were they? Sand…? Not really..sand…like sand mixed with gravel, rimmed around what appeared to be the shores of a large body of water…a lake maybe? Her eyes wandered the area, and to her horror she realized she was right. If it hadn't been for Seishiro's constant babbling about this particular horror game franchise, she wouldn't have known that 'Toluca Lake' was definitely not a good place to be.

But where was the beast that had brought them here?

"Sei…" Cindy sobbed, inching closer to the boy. "Sei…Seishi…wake up…"

Seishiro did not stir. Not even in the slightest. And she began to fear the worst.

"Sei!" she said hysterically. "Sei, you can't die! I know you won't! Sei! Wake up! Sei!"

It was so dark now. So very dark. Seishiro couldn't hear a thing under all that darkness. So…frightening. So familiar…but so unwanted.

"Sei…" Cindy sobbed fully, but she choked on her cries in surprise when her chains were tugged, and looked back to see the towering figure, holding the cinderblock like it was but a textbook in a single hand, a little lower than the point of his helmet.

Her eyes widened when she realized her fate. With a quick splash and a few screams, soon muffled by the sound of bubbles, she disappeared beneath the waves.

However, she wasn't the only one to vanish. As the executioner turned back to his second victim, Seishiro's body was gone. The only thing that remained, was the pool of blood, that was now the only proof that the boy's body ever lay there.

* * *

"Mhh-…uhn…" A fresh tear stained the already dirtied sheets as he felt the thick finger rub teasingly against his tightened sphincter. "N-nnn…no….don't…"

The wild, blue-eyed boy had become not much more than a lewd, miserable play-toy. No more. Not these fumbling, clueless touches. He needed…he wanted more. He needed that intense cruelty. The sadistic torturous pleasure that was so humiliating it was poison.

And the town heard his warped plea that was no longer really his own but it's will to be his.

The Butcher was suddenly pulled off Chance's body, finger that was already starting to make it's way into his little asshole suddenly yanked out, causing the boy to cry.

"HYAAAH!"

Pyramid Head slammed The Butcher into the wall with all the force he could muster, breath coming in angered rasps. The cruel creature had made sure to grab at the metal-protected half of his son's face, squeezing and forcing the softer, exposed flesh of his right into the wall, making it crack fracture like fragile glass against the pressure.

A low groan and a roar came as The Butcher struggled against the punisher's grip. But there was nothing even his brother, The Bogeyman could do to get in the way. After all, the punisher's judgement was always just and true.

Deciding The Butcher had learned his lesson, Pyramid Head tossed him aside carelessly, marching over to The Bogeyman next, who had already let go of Chance's wrists and was slowly backing away stoically, hands at his sides. Much too excitedly, Chance launched himself forward to wrap his arms around the strong, toned, blood-soaked stomach, holding tight.

Chance wanted to say that he thought he was never going to come back for him, but a part of his old stubbornness remained and he held it in.

Instead he said, "You killed again…" as he traced over the fresh blood on the other's smock and bare, mighty chest.

If there was a chance for everything…there was a chance that it really was futile. There was a chance that nightmares really were real. There was a chance that, after everything, the only thing one has left if the corrupt, sadistic side of life. And there was a chance that…even if that were so, one really doesn't have a choice…but to smile that evil cheshire smile, to laugh that hopeless deranged laugh and to cling onto insanity to stay alive.

Chance leaned his head against the strong taught chest and sighed in resignation. Maybe…it wasn't so bad. Yes…he didn't need the light. There was nothing for him there…there was nothing for him in this sick, twisted world. This was his reality. His nightmare. As long as it was his, nothing else mattered. There was nothing else for him.

He smiled, a crazy, tired, happy smile as he looked up at the darkness under the pyramid, finally…accepting. "_And while the good children live…the bad ones cannot escape their fate…_"

Somewhere, far, far away…Seishiro stumbled through thick woods, holding his stomach in pain. He came upon a house that seemed too old to look the way it did, and was drawn to it. Within it, he found signs of a struggle, the pantry wide open and cans of ooh and snacks spilled onto the floor…the wooden boards having been pierced and broken through…a dead creature that looked like a giant cockroach not far from the massive hole. He found a knife, and took it, cutting his shirt open and using it to bind his wound.

"_For once you hear his screeching wail…it's already too late…_" Chance whispered tenderly, tracing the scars on Pyramid Head's chest.

Cindy let go of her last breath as she felt the pressure of the water around her squeeze her lungs beyond their limit, as she reached the bottom, a sudden lightness lifted her from the pain and the panic, the painful popping of her ears. She breathed, coughing and vomiting foul, tainted lake water onto the clean floor of the portal room.

Chance shut his eyes…and even though they weren't those horribly tainted silver against the maddening black sclera…and even though he was in his right mind…even though the redness of the room faded into a dull, otherworld grey…he didn't care. For once in his life…he felt right at home.

* * *

The medical team carried the limp body out of the hospital room, left in a mess. Nobody really knew what had taken place, but one of the so-called bikers that had presumably been visiting their 'younger brother' had damaged the respirator that was funneled into the patient's system. Without the needed air, the boy on the hospital bed slowly suffocated to death, never waking up. The passing was quiet. He had no family members, so there was no arrangements for a funeral.

What was curious about the whole ordeal was that there were two unidentified visitors-a male and female- that had been in the room when the fight had broken out between the bikers and they began to brutally attack and kill each other off. There was no evidence that the two had left the room, yet there was no sign that had ever participated in the fight that resulted in the patient's death, and were nowhere to be found.

The patient was identified as Chance Fitch, and his body was bathed and bagged, ready to be sent to the morgue. However the doctors who did the final follow-up autopsy on the body found signs of rupturing of his internal organs, stretching and abuse of his sphincter, and a black substance present in large amounts in his intestines. When tested, the samples simply vanished into thin air upon being looked under the microscope. The substance was found to be very acidic in nature, and it is a wonder why the patient's body did not suffer from it's effects. It was deduced that he had been a victim of sexual abuse. Though they speculated that the lead biker of the gang that constantly came to visit the patient was the cause or perhaps any other one of the members, no DNA tests confirmed this.

What the DNA test did find was that there were traces of semen belonging to a Mr. James Sunderland, that went missing on his vacation with his wife Mary Sunderland, to the town of Centrai-Silent Hill…findings show…that…patient…body…disappeared on the way to…morgue…no signs of-Chance shut his eyes, and the seal to the hospital entrance was broken. He smiled, feeling the cold hands of the executioner, his tormentor, his punisher, his god, cup his face possessively.

Fate smiled and giggled, watching as the town corrupted the reality and twisted facts and fiction together. What was real? What was dream? What was nightmare? Is there a difference between nightmare and dream? Does it matter?

Pyramid Head sunk his hidden needle-like teeth, hard into Chance's neck, enough to sever the jugular, spraying blood all over himself, the boy, and the sheets. Some even getting onto The Bogeyman who stood vigilant nearby, some pooling near Th Butcher who had made it back onto his feet and was now glaring in jealousy.

_You…are…mine._

There was one, final stanza left to the poem. It wasn't over…

Seishiro glared out the broken window and frowned stubbornly, "…not just yet."

* * *

**Oh my god. OH. MY GOD. DID…DID I JUST FUCKING FINISH THIS STORY?! DID I JUST MOTHERFUCKING FINISH THIS STORY?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?! HOLY…I can't believe this. I really, really didn't plan it like this. But it's kinda…cool, the way it turned out.**

**And, I know I said I was going to have a little ChanceXOC…and I decided well eh. I'll give him Seishiro. I'm hoping to maybe get a sketch of Sei-kun up on deviantart soon so you can fantasize about this pairing. Again, don't worry, all you Pyramid HeadXChance lovers who have faithfully read my story up until this point. This mostly to make PH jealous. And…I find it kinda spicy.**

**Love,**

**JanFan04**

**PS: Keep your heads up for the sequel!**


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